Protection Detail
by BleedingHeartsoftheWorldUnite
Summary: It all started with a letter received in the dead of night. A mother makes a desperate plea for her daughter's life, and everything spirals out of control from that point on. Newly forged relationships are tested in the darkness, leaving both a thief and an heiress to question the definition of what it means to grow up.
1. Prologue: Winds of Her Whim

**\- Prologue -**

 **Winds of Her Whim**

"All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair."  
― _M_ _itch Albom, The Five People You Meet In Heaven_

 **\- Nadine Ross -**

The auction did not go well. I'd voiced my concerns to Rafe on more than one occasion, yet we ended up doing things his way. On the return to Scotland, there was a discussion on how we should continue now that Drake was back in play; the only point on which we agreed was finding Avery's treasure was the most important thing. It wasn't that we disagreed on that particular topic, just that neither of us could decide how to make the best of the situation at the present time.

Operations resumed their normal status, however my partner had become more irritable and prone to scolding my men than before. I had attempted to take his mind off matters if only briefly, and how did he reward me? By telling me off for how Shoreline was handling the situation. Initially I was willing to admit that perhaps my team could use more finesse, but Rafe had to just keeping pushing it and pushing it.

Inevitably the conversation turned full circle back to the auction and the reemergence of Drake. In fact it wasn't much different than the flight from Italy, only there wasn't nearly as much yelling and rage involved. Rafe was definitely considering more possibilities than he was letting on, I was almost certain of it. So long as he kept me informed of what I needed to know, he could theorize and plot as much as he wanted.

Avery's treasure was what bound us all, but I found that the millions were becoming less and less worth the hassle...

Drake taking me hostage in the jungle and Rafe's response to the stand-off was the straw that broke the camel's back. "Hurt" isn't a word typically found in my vocabulary, but even to this day I still can't make up my mind on what rankled worse: Rafe almost letting me die, or my supposed partner being impressed with the lengths Drake was willing to go. Recounting how Drake had once been on our side did nothing to help. Taking him along with us for the remainder of our stay in Libertalia was like a constant knife stuck inside, the blade digging deeper and deeper into the soft tissue. Although I had to admit that he did have his uses.

By the time we'd reached Avery's ship and nearly all of my men were dead, I was done with Rafe and his bullshit. Attempting to cut and run before I became another victim of the crazed pirate captain or the men that sought his vast wealth, I realized too late that Rafe was too shorthanded to just let me go if he could help it.

It also dawned on me that in some twisted way, I even came to respect Drake for all the woe he had suffered for this quest - if anyone had any right to the gold, it was Drake and his brother. Rafe had done nothing for his own. Unless you counted him turning on me, betraying me, threatening me, and laying his God-damned hands on me. Taking a punch was practically a daily regiment for me, but I swore to myself at an early age that I wasn't going to idle by and take more than I had to.

Retaliation was the first thought to cross my mind, but between being outnumbered and facing an opponent with no moral center nor sane code of honor, I knew that it would have been my death. Call it shock, knowing that the end of an era was nigh, or having more at stake than just a terminated partnership, but the falling out with Rafe wasn't all that simple. Too much depended on my next move.

My moment came on the ship, surrounded by smoke and flames. Rafe had the gall to tell the Drake brothers that he didn't screw over his partners. I suppose that from his perspective that was the truth, but from where I was standing he had completely lost what little shred of sanity he had left. Holding a gun to the back of his head with every intention of pulling the trigger, I tried one last time to make him see that there was more than Avery's treasure. He was too far gone to see that the greed would kill him, so I just left. I was beyond caring how any of this ended, just so long as I survived.

Damn glad I had too, or else I never would have been able to hold you in my arms in your biggest time of need.

 **\- Bai Wen -**

The one from Panama was looking at me again. Squirming uncomfortably in my seat from the intensity of the gaze, I did everything I could to ignore him. Scanning my station, the only things readily available to hold my attention was a report from the team in LA or my computer. The monitor was on, however I had been too drained from the previous night to to pay my work all the attention it needed; instead I had only gone as far as logging in after lunch. Notarized documents it was!

 _The Venezuelan imports are due to see a thirty percent increase within the next six months at the current market trend._ Eyes beginning to blur as I reread the same line of the report, I bought time by readjusting the sable frames that would have been lost to my bangs but for the sheen of the plastic. _Assuming that the market does not see a considerable change within the projected time frame, the company could see as much as a thirty-five percent bump._ Rafe wouldn't feel the difference either way, but his coffers would sure feel the fruits of my labor. And I'd get the credit for bringing the Venezuelan investors into the fold.

Joyful triumph short-lived, the smoldering stare of the convict was enough to burn a hole through the back of my neck. Three weeks ago, I would have strongly reprimanded myself for identifying the man so harshly, reminding myself that it was the most probable reaction to being locked away for so long. It couldn't have been easy for him that Rafe didn't have too many women working in capacity to his personal project of finding captain Avery's treasure after all. The me of nearly a month ago needed to be firmly slapped for being such an imbecile, for forgetting that I had known the type of man he was before the Panama job had gone belly-up.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" I didn't much care for the way his eyes lingered. Rafe wouldn't like it either, if he knew.

But Rafe was never going to find out about this indiscretion, not if I had anything to do about it. The prisoner from Panama was a fun fling, but once Rafe had his eye on something, it was as good as his. Even after it got dusty and was locked away in the attic with the rest of the valuables, it still belonged to him. And to think I'd once been envious of the painted dolls on display.

In hindsight, I never should have taken the promotion or left my office back in the States. Better still, I should have listened to baba and just stayed in Hunan. Maybe even marry that educator like my parents desired of me. Oh the life that 'should' could have built for me!

"Bai," Rafe's voice over the radio startled me from my reverie, "where the permit expansions delivered to the Chicago office or the one in Boulder?"

Having confirmed just today that the permits had already been signed and were due to be returned later this week, I didn't need to check my computer screen. Which was good, because I wasn't exactly focused on the company mainframe. Oops. "Neither. They were sent to the New York building."

Despite being an asset to Rafe's operation, it seemed to me that the one from Panama almost never had any actual work to do. My belief was only furthered when the convict chose the most dangerous moment possible to harass me. Alone in the cavernous back room that might have once been an additional library or storeroom, it occurred to me as he approached my desk that there were no other witnesses nor any other obstacles or excuses in the way. Oh! Where were those Shoreline goons when you had need of them?!

So far as he was concerned, I may as well have been the last book in stock.

Quietly as I could to avoid alerting the boss, I shook my head furiously at the other. The one from Panama only smirked at the images on my screen and took it upon himself to begin massaging my shoulders. The strong hands rolling lower down my back beckoned with a melting tingle - as consenting adults we both knew where the gesture would lead.

After a brief pause and the scratching of a pen on paper, Rafe's voice was back on the line. "Fine work. You truly are an inspiration to the company, Bai."

Once more I found myself torn between my duty and my desires, and once more I could tell that my vices were going to further besmirch the remainder of my character. Cleaver as I was in a boardroom, I was no match for the devil inside that longed to be adored. "Thank you." Sincere as the gratitude was, there was considerable guilt eating me from the inside. "Perhaps we could discuss this further after dinner?" Angling subtly away from the one from Panama, I attempted to end the night with the right dance partner.

Silence would have been better than the answer I received. "Not tonight. Samuel found some discolored bricks in the kitchen that may be an attempt to hide some kind of secret entrance. I'm going to be dating the stones and cross-referencing the samples before we do anything drastic."

Perfect. The lead was too big a possible break for me to press the issue, and the task would be so time consuming that the one from Panama needn't be there for the whole entire duration. Rafe would have preferred if his partner was present, but the jailbird had the legitimate excuse of claiming to be doing additional research. Rafe may as well have given the one from Panama the key to his room and state that that the sheets to the bed we shared had just been changed.

Well, I still had one trick up my sleeve to discourage the convict from pursuing another night together, but it would be risky. " If that's all for today, I think I'm going to retire. I haven't been sleeping well lately." Was I trying to illicit sympathy where I knew none existed, or was I trying to get myself caught and murdered? Even I had no idea, but I knew that I was nothing short of an idiot with issues.

Clearly Rafe was too busy to spend time on me, but nothing was preventing him from being shrewd enough to remember that there were other ways to take the phrase 'haven't been sleeping well lately'. The one from Panama was also free to interpret that was he would.

"We'll speak later, Bai." There was something about the way he said that that got me worried.

Conversation over and danger passed (for now), the former inmate held me tightly, as if he never meant to let me go. The attention may have been nice at first, but truthfully I was just getting sick and tired of these men acting as if they desired more than ownership over me. At least with Rafe the dominance was overt - with the one from Pamana it's just a game to pass the time.

"Spare me the act, will you? It was fun at first, the flirting, the sneaking around, but I'm done." Brushing him off as I shut down my work station for the night, I stood up to leave.

The one from Panama had known Rafe just as long as I - there was no mistaking the peril history told us was waiting if we were discovered - but we'd done this same song and dance one too many times. Every time I would curse my station while watching my honor deteriorate, and every time he fed off my vices and found his way into my skirt.

There was no more of a label for our shared lust than what I had with Rafe, but Rafe was a dangerous man to cross. The one from Panama was invaluable to the team, however I was replaceable. As an expert on all things Avery, finding the treasure would become that much more difficult without the former prisoner, and Rafe had already been at this for over a decade. Diligent as I was to my work, in the business world there was always a better model in the wings that could run the company on Rafe's behalf.

It hadn't been said out loud yet, but I knew that there was already a new woman that had caught Rafe's attention - strange that a man so obsessed by a single goal could still find the time.

Call it a bullshit double standard or because he was rich enough to write his own laws, but it would have been fine for him to drop me without a second thought. Maybe it would have been better for everyone involved if he would just send me back to the city; so long as I still had my job, Rafe could do whatever he pleased.

I had spent the last seventeen years of my life toiling at the bottom of the ladder before impressing my bosses enough to earn a single chance to dazzle their boss. Many said that I had done immoral things to reach the point I had when I began to report directly to Rafe himself, and they wouldn't have been wrong to reach that conclusion. But until I had met the son that would go on to inherit the family business from his father, I had kept my personal and professional lives completely separate. Google my name, and you'd see that I had taken three of my former bosses to the cleaners for sexual harassment and won each suit.

How I missed the days when a little snow was my biggest downfall.

"You sure I can't convince you to change your mind?" The one from Panama had the kind of easy smile that could melt the icy heart of any woman (or anyone remotely interested). "For old time's sakes?" That man had a charisma that was lethal and ought to have been made illegal. Thinking of it like that... I placed my worries into my glasses so I could set them on the table and forget about them for a time.

"I have ten minutes."

Victorious, the one from Panama chuckled as his fingers brushed the hem of my dress. "You're gonna need a whole helluva lot more than that."

 **\- Elena Fisher -**

Something was off.

From the corner of my eye I could see Nate diligently finishing today's paperwork, but that wasn't too out of the ordinary to raise any red flags. As I continued to puzzle it over while attending my own in box, my stomach suddenly cramped and rolled over on itself. Problem solved: lunch must not have agreed with me. Glancing over at my husband again to see if maybe he too was suffering the same way I was, he caught me looking and grinned.

"Hello there." Waiting just long enough for me to chuckle, he stretched and pushed away from the most tedious aspect of our lives. "Checking out the cute new guy at the office?"

As much as I just loved to do inventory, I also rolled away from my work to have a small sidebar. "And get in trouble for sexual harassment? I think that's a hard pass. Besides, my husband might not appreciate it very much."

Nate never was as good at keeping a straight face as I was, but bless him for trying. "I don't know if my pride should be wounded or if I should be proud to have such a faithful wife. I think I'll go with the latter."

"Good choice, cowboy."

It was all I could do to keep from crying out as my abdomen burned white-hot and coiled around on itself. Had things gone my way, I would have just casually asked if lunch was coming back up on him wrong too, possibly cracking a joke about this being the last time I'd let Nate pick where we eat. He'd pout and rebuttal about his irresistible charm getting the better of me in the end. And'd he'd be right.

"Elena?" Maybe my joke in Libertalia was more cruel than I realized at the time...

Instead the pain lashed across my face and before I knew it, he was by my side. He knew better than anyone that I was no fragile creature, but because I was so strong it wasn't often that I got ill. As a matter of fact, I could probably take a nice vacation with all the sick hours I've accumulated. Not that I would when we were still establishing the company.

Still, I did what I could to shrug this attack off. "I'm fine. The chicken just must not have agreed with me is all." I didn't need to be a journalist to know the horror stories that came from eating tainted poultry. "It'll flush itself out of my system soon enough."

Aware of just how critically I was being observed, I attempted to resume the invoice only to be thwarted by another wave of angry recoil. He looked at me skeptically before returning to his computer to save his work. Nate trusted me to know my own limits, but he also knew me well enough to call my bluff when I was being pigheaded. It was a two way street.

"Get ready, I'm taking you home to rest." His tone brokered no room for argument, and frankly I was in no fit state to give one. Guess I was worse off than I'd originally thought.

Computers off and office shut down early, I noticed that the sharp needle-like sensation mercilessly driving deeper in my intestinal track had abated somewhat on the drive back home. Nate wanted to take me to the doctor, but I reminded him that food poisoning was more just something that you had to sweat out than a malady that could be treated with an antibiotic. Although considering the lack of an explosive exit, we were both wondering if this was really just a simple case of bad food.

"Hey, do you have any more of those little meat-stick things?" Eating a spicy knock-off of beef jerky was probably the first sign of delirium creeping into my brain, but I was hungry and they sounded like just the thing that would hit the spot.

Vaguely aware of my frantic search for his stash of Slim Jims as he drove, he chuckled in disbelief. "Really? You might be dying but you want to snap into my Jims? Now there's a new idea for a commercial!"

Personally I found nothing funny about wanting to eat a certain food item. Spiced meat may have been what got me into this mess in the first place, but it was what I wanted! And then it hit me: abdominal pains, food cravings, irrational irritation. Doing the mental math and crunching the numbers this way and that, certain biological factors did fit in the time frame. Was I...? Could we be...?

They'd been married for a while now, but somehow that was a topic that hadn't come up very frequently. At the time it didn't seem to matter that we were avoiding the conversation, because we were both in the same place - manage the marriage and just keep working. Our careers were important to us, even when Nate had initially sworn off adventuring to go work for Jameson. Obviously that hadn't exactly gone as planned, but we made the most of it. Together.

 _Dammit._

Nathan needed to know what the possibilities were, so that we could work through this too. But knowing the little bits about his past that I did, I was terrified of how this could have affected him. I was terrified of how it would affect me.

Noticing a little convenience store just up the side of the road, I ripped into the yellow and red package I'd found behind the cup holder with savage strength. "Do you mind if we make a quick pit stop real quick?"

Pointing out the store before he missed the turnoff, I savored the snack as it exploded on my tongue in a chorus of delicious hallelujah. While I preferred the real kind of jerky, this stuff wasn't awful, but it was never anything close to tasting as great as it did right now. This was virtually all the confirmation I needed to be sure, but it would have been nice to have all the details before getting our hopes up.

Pulling in just a tad too sharp for my liking - rather my innards were the one with complaint - Nate parked and turned to look at me. He might not have known what was going on in my head (or my body), but he was starkly aware that something was off with me. More than just the nausea and pain.

"What's up Elena? First you're practically dying then you're devouring all my protein snacks. I don't mind, but you _never_ touch my beef jerky. Is there something you're not telling me?" He was dancing all around the answer, but I couldn't tell if he was edging away from the truth on purpose or not.

Panicking at the thought of how he was going to react to the introduction of the subject, it crossed my mind to hold off from catching him up to speed until I had all the details for myself. It might have been easy to deceive him, but I didn't want to lie, even if it was a little white lie. We'd come too far for that now.

"Nate," taking his hands in mine, I wished that I could have done this in the privacy of our home instead of in public, "I think I might know what's wrong with me. Nate, I think I'm pregnant." Scared as I was, when the words came out of my mouth I could feel myself smiling at the thought.

"..." Succumbing to shock, he stared at me for a moment. I couldn't blame him for not knowing what to say.

"Nate?" Sliding one hand up his wrist and forearm, I touched his face with the other. He responded enough to my touch to show that he was still with it, but there was just too much going on in his head to even attempt speech. So that was all it took to shut him up. Who knew?

Nodding against my hand, his face slowly broke into one of his biggest, goofiest grins. "I'm gonna be a dad." There was no question about it, only joy. I didn't want to have to be the naysayer, but someone had to break it to him that we didn't know that for sure yet.

Opting to give him a minute to consider that not everything about having a baby was going to be a wonderful experience (we'd certainly have a long discussion later, whether or not he reached that conclusion on his own), I pulled back. "Well maybe not. Here, do us a solid and keep the getaway car running. I need to stretch myself out for a minute or two." For a moment I thought that he was going to put up a fight about making me stay in the car, but surprisingly he relented.

"I'll give you ten minutes, but if you're not back before that I'll have no choice but to assume the worst and move on." Sick as I was feeling, I kissed him before getting out of the car chuckling.

 **\- Crystal Savage -**

Opening the door in my star-spangled bathrobe, I was only mildly surprised to see Father Duffy with a police escort. Two years ago this could have been about anything, but nowadays if any authoritative figure came knocking on my door it could only have been one thing: Samuel Morgan. Technically Sam was no longer under the care Father Duffy, but the priest still cared enough to involve himself when he could. In a way I envied that.

"He ain't here." I know I'd said it before - and with varying levels of conviction - but this time I really meant it when I said I was done with Sam. There were some damn good times when we were together, but it just wasn't enough to make us a good thing. I understood that now that I was sober and trying to make something of my situation.

A kindly man despite the tyrannical institution he worked for, Father Duffy frowned at my sharp tone. "I'm afraid it's more serious than that, my child." Immediately my mind flashed to the worst possible scenarios, but the priest shook his head, "God-willing, Samuel and Nathan are fine, where ever they are."

"Nathan?" I wasn't very familiar with the kid having only met him once, but Sam would hardly ever shut up about his younger brother. Intelligent as he was, thinking things through was't exactly Sam's strongest suit, but surely he knew better than to get Nathan involved! ...Right?

Antsy to get the show on the road, the pig in blue chimed in, "The trail is dead cold, but the Father here says you knows them boys."

Old me would have popped him square in the jaw for that, but old me wasn't much better at making decisions than Sam was. But if he were in trouble... Father Duffy may have been optimistic about their fate, but I could feel my innards knotting up at the thought that something grim had occurred. Much as the fuzz lived to give her kind trouble, if anything happened to Sam and his kid brother I'd never forgive myself if I could have helped.

Not giving myself much time to consider that I was helping the police, I blurted out the words, "I used to date Sam. USED to. We haven't spoken in a while..." opening the door, I revealed something to the cop and the Father that not even Sam knew. Now he'd likely never know about it, but that was more of a comfort to me than it was a burden.

Plush as my dad's old robe was, there was no mistaking the cause of my haggard appearance. More than anything else (judgmental being my first guess as to how a man of the cloth would view the scene), Father Duffy seemed saddened by this turn of events. The officer seemed even less surprised by my condition than I was to find them on my front step. I think the only reason he didn't open his mouth is because of the priest.

For just a moment the unknown whereabouts of the Morgan boys was put on the back burner. In a selfish sort of way, it was kinda nice being recognized for my own person outside of my relationship.

"My dear girl, are you being properly treated?" Taking one glance over my shoulder at the sorry arrangement behind me, I could have laughed at that. However I stopped myself, knowing that he was one of the few good ones.

"As good as my family can afford." Frankly I was still shocked that my daddy took me back in, but I guess turning up on his doorstep at three in the morning and repentant must have done the trick. "So," stepping aside, I permitted them entrance, "when was the last time they were seen?"

The officer supplied the details, Father Duffy filling in one or two holes after explaining that Nathan had just gotten in trouble for fighting. So far that sounded about right. Sir Bacon glanced around the place while the Father spoke, no doubt searching for evidence of drugs. Rotten bastard, jumping to conclusions like that. I've been clean for the better part of a year, and my daddy was working on reaching double-digits. Guess the lack of my momma made it easier for the both of us to cope.

"We were hoping that maybe they'd come looking for help from friends." As this case was over the typical forty-eight hour mark, Father Duffy was disappointed by yet another dead end.

The priest was clearly beating himself up over the disappearance. Worried as I was that Sam's plans (whatever they were) had backfired horribly, seeing how twisted the Father was over this made me want to clock that jerk. Again. Whatever his intentions may have been, he never looked far beyond himself and his little brother.

"Again, I haven't seen or spoken to Sam in about six months now." I didn't need to say anything to him. Were there things I should have said? Yeah, there were. God knows how many things I should have said, but even if I ever saw him again, I knew that I couldn't bring myself to do it, to apologize. "We ended on pretty bad terms, so I doubt he'd come 'round here. Not unless he was really screwed."

Rubbing the crucifix hanging from his neck with the back of his thumb, I could tell that this wasn't the way the priest wanted to end the investigation. "I failed those boys. I failed them, despite my best efforts."

Sensing that the interview was over, Johnny Law almost tripped over his own two feet to reach the front door. Father Duffy went to follow after, but something compelled me to reach out and pause him. Technically my daddy had raised me Catholic, but I was hardly a model student of the Lord. Maybe it was time to change that, or maybe I just wanted to offer a chance at redemption.

"Wait, can you... can you help me, Father Duffy? I know it isn't standard procedure to ask this outside of confession, but I'm not sure I'm ready to step into a church just yet."

Nodding to the policeman that he could leave, the priest smiled at me. "A patient shepherd knows that a lost lamb wanting to return home to the rest of the flock will best respond to gentle care. A good shepherd will also know when a lamb is trying to help him in kind. Thank you, Crystal."

Vaguely aware of what I was signing myself up for, I just prayed that this one act of kindness was for the best. "I ain't done anything yet."

Father Duffy obviously disagreed, "You have, dear girl, you have. And just remember that if you or the child ever has need of anything, you know where to find me."

Ultimately, I look back and wonder if Father Duffy had ever regretted his offer to help...


	2. The Heiress

**\- Chapter One -**

 **The Heiress**

Management was definitely going to kick him out by morning. They were already less than thrilled by the volume of foot traffic on his floor, not to mention that the sheets were hardly ever out of the wash. Could he help it if his partner's contact had harbored a lasting grudge or that the sheets just so happened to be the only thing handy to keep from bleeding out? In his mind he was no more responsible for that then he had any say in whether or not he always had the means to pay them on the spot. Chain and staff alike were compensated in the end, and despite the occasional gunfight he liked to picture himself an otherwise ideal guest. Unless he completely snapped and murdered the assholes next door that fancied themselves the next Stones.

Sleep probably wasn't going to come that night anyways, but his neighbors were determined to quash any remaining vestiges of hope. Ordinarily when slumber proved elusive the brunette would grab a book and brush up on his history, however there were too many external distractions to focus tonight. For the wistful and the night owls the bar was always an option, but by four in the morning nearly everyone nearby had already closed shop.

His little brother - who was more cut out for the home life it would seem - had suggested once that he get some fresh air when things became too much to handle. That was sound advice passed down the ages and through a quipy mouthpiece, but he wasn't much in the mood for wandering aimlessly at the moment. In part it made him dwell on all the things he didn't have.

Eternally sage and much more up his ally when the bike was the shop, there was always Victor's advice: find a warm body to spend the time with. As a man that had lost nearly two decades of his life in a Panamanian clink, that was a path that didn't bear a second thought. And on the bright side of calling out for a friend, paid company meant a pillow with a pulse that would speak as much or as little as he wanted.

Deciding on a course of action to keep from finding a new reason to end up back in prison, the man pulled himself from the leather couch in the sizable living space. The plush vanilla towel around his waist threatened to loosen at the motion, but it ultimately held for the time being. Shower now rendered partially redundant, it wasn't like the cover was going to need to stay on much longer.

Skin still wet from the twenty minute distraction, the adventurer thumbed through the rainbow of sticky notes by the corded room phone. While most would have questioned why there were numbers manually written down in an era of smart phones, he noted that the receiver was stuck down with adhesive. Folks were petty enough to steal anything that wasn't bolted down, however there was neither sport nor gain from such trivial lifts. Locating the number of the most reliable service he knew, the man was just about to place the call when there was a knock on the door.

Who the hell would that be at this time? The sounds of partying had yet to abate, so it wasn't anyone with an apology for him. True it could have been any number of individuals that wanted him to pay for this or that, but most of them wouldn't have bothered to knock first. Maybe there was one person that came to mind, but her beef was more with Victor. Grabbing the gun from the holster hanging from the coat rack and hiding it just behind the door, the grizzled former convict cautiously opened the door.

Blue eyes like a storming sea in the winter and dark coffee curls tousled by a panicked flight met his gaze through the crack. Crochet and cut to ribbons, the top typical of the current fashion left no mistake that the uninvited guest was of a feminine nature (thank you whoever made it okay for even the most modest of girls to show a little skin!). Not quite able to place who she reminded him of, this girl didn't look old enough to scratch twenty by the tooth.

"Please..." Trembling due to the rain soaking through the thin fabric of her sweater, she looked about ready to collapse. "I'm looking for someone."

Aware that this could have just been a ploy to get him once his guard was down, there was something about the uncertainty in her face that reminded him of his little brother the first time he had taught him to climb. He lowered the gun but didn't drop it fully. "Alright, who sent you? 'Cuz it's not even my birthday."

"..." Not even a nervous titter. This must have been serious business and not just a case of a cute tourist that could barely speak the language lost in the rain. Too bad, those were some of his favorite kinds of movies rare as they were.

Placing the gun down on the end table by the entrance, he opened the door more than a sliver. Empty-handed and clothes too tight to hide anything bigger than a knife, it was safe to assume that he wouldn't die in just a towel. At least not today. Much less proficient at sizing up someone discreetly, the young lady was studying his face and doing her best to not blush at his state of undress. Add a few years on the kid, and he could have had some real fun with this one.

"What, do you not like jokes?" So much for levity. "Okay, just let me get dressed and then you can tell me what magic artifact or illegal treasure you need me to steal." Women usually only came to him for one of two reasons, so it was safe to assume that this one was no different. Technically it was only the one thing so far, but there was a first time for everything.

Timid, perhaps by recent experience or possibly just by nature, she somehow had found enough strength to nod meekly in agreement. Complain as much she would want to - though why one would want to deny themselves was beyond him - being naked was just too much of distraction for anyone. Speaking of air drying, it seemed that they were standing there for an inordinate amount of time. He'd say that his time was valuable, but at this point the intrigue was just enough to silence the unmistakable sounds of fireworks a number over.

In the vein of stating her purpose and getting the ball rolling, the kid tapped deeper into the recesses of human capability and politely inquired in her softest indoor voice, "Sam Drake?"

"The only one I know of." At some point Sam would have to ask her how exactly someone as clean as her had come across his name.

Had this girl not appeared to be a minor, he would have been generous enough to toss her the towel off his body and show her what she was missing out on. Instead he deemed the little mouse to be of no immediate danger and showed her inside to the recently stocked towel closet and the living room. "Just sit tight while I go make myself less offensive to your delicate constitution." Abashed, she had taken the towel from the cubbyhole and wrapped herself in it before sitting down as instructed.

Once pants and an old shirt had been applied, the man sat down in the armchair opposite his potential client. Now that they were drying after getting damp from the weather, the limp curls in her face were returning to their originally flat shape. Able to see her eyes more clearly now, he was certain that he had encountered their like before, however he was still failing to put a name to Eve-x. He also noted that her shaking had calmed but had not yet fully come to a stop.

"So?" The floor was all hers.

For just a second he thought that she was there for a little after all when she reached inside the top of her v-neck and pulled out an old envelope. Handing it over, the first thing that he noticed was that it had been written in a hurry - blood dotted the corner like a grim stamp from death. On a closer inspection, the material wasn't quite as aged as he thought - it was just colored to appear that way.

Opening the letter as the girl watched with curiosity etched into her face and every movement, Sam felt a trace of guilt that it had taken the signature to actually be able to remember the name of the woman that resembled this child so strongly. Scanning the contents to see the fresh gore that had smeared further during transport, he only felt worse for how he remembered the woman. But it was long enough ago that he could only conjure up so much remorse.

Faint imprint of regal flower fall on the personal paper as recognizable as the bi-lingual heading at the bottom of the page, the second thing to jog his memory was the jasmine perfume that lingered to the snowy pulp parchment. The rain should have been more than enough to overpower it, yet there was more than a hint left. _Bai._ Wen Bai (as she was introduced) had written this by hand, the little white bi-sexual herself. Man, that joke had not aged well. _Because it was such a gem to begin with._

Supposedly some kind of a legendary monster in the business world (Sam had never seen her in action, but Rafe hadn't been stupid enough to get rid of something that still could have been used to his own benefit), the last he'd heard she'd been running the show. That was hardly different than his tenure in Scotland before Shoreline - or rather Nadine - had become a major presence. History with Rafe aside, at least when the better part of the night had been spent bent over a desk, Sam had put a smile on the woman's face. Apparently there had been more going on behind closed doors than anyone had realized, looking at the kid sitting across from him now.

 _'Time is Short._ _I fear that they're on to me._ _If they can get the proof they need to support their claim, I have failed. Please, I am begging you from my heart to save my daughter and save the company I have fought so hard for!_ _She needs to live, she is -'_

Scarlet obscured the document in places as if the author were bleeding out from internal wounds, but the ink was dark enough to show through some of the stains. Like the really important part that said it'd be worth his time to get involved.

 _'If you do this, there will be a reward with your name on it. It may not be as substantial as the Gunsway heist promised to be, but it should be enough for future investments.'_

Glory and the sweet promise of being the first to uncover something the world had forgotten was the dream of any adventurer, but he wasn't prepared to just pass up the opportunity for easy money. A babysitting gig wasn't ideal, but being between jobs Victor would have skinned him alive for rejecting the chance and offending a future client. Anyways, if things got too hairy with the kid he could always call Nathan for tips.

Mindful that Bai was nowhere to be seen and that the girl seemed to be alone, he asked with as much gentleness as he could muster, "What happened to your mother?"

"Mama..." words caught in her throat, the girl couldn't answer.

Having been unceremoniously stirred from an unexpected nap in the library, a certain book sprawled open across her lap, the girl couldn't get the image of her mother out of her mind. Mama was always so put together and on top of everything, but in that instant there was fear in her eyes that turned the ocean into a glassy smoke as uncertain as the future. Blood was dribbling from the corner of her mouth as if she'd been in a fight, and her pretty plumb lipstick was smeared down her chin. She also might have been missing a tooth, but the girl had been too alarmed to really look.

Strange to think that just that afternoon everything had been rigidly scheduled and boring as always. Come home from school, get a snack and promptly run around the corner for an hour of community service before the chauffeur would collect her and take her to whatever class her mom had selected. She'd remember thinking once that while she'd appreciate the fruit of all that effort as an adult, right now she just wanted to hang out with friends. Not that anyone actually wanted to be her friend when her mother didn't make the time to pencil it in.

Nevertheless she was still determined to get her mom to relax enough for them to say that they had spent at least some quality time together. Mama was always too preoccupied putting terror into her rivals to let her hair down, both literally or figuratively. Frankly every time she thought about it, the young woman concluded that it was a mystery how her mother'd ever have the time to get pregnant in the first place. Surely her father must have been a truly remarkable person.

Knocking softly on the open door of the home office, she inclined her head politely before beginning, "Mama, do you want to send Teegan home early and make dinner ourselves? I researched easy recipes we could do ourselves."

Adding that she had gone the extra mile to have a plan managed to impress her mother enough to look up from the desk for just a moment, but there was no immediate answer forthcoming. That must have meant that she intended to lecture her daughter on wasting school time for personal pursuits. How she had known that the google search was done at school was just another example of her frighting near-omnipotence.

Jotting down a quick note on a piece of scratch paper, the woman adjusted her glasses before they could slide down her nose. "You know I'm too busy with this merger, Daniella. If you really want to justify this game, Teegan can try your little recipe after you finish your homework, but tonight we're having stew." Stew sounded normal, but Daniella doubted that it was particularly common for the everyman to have oyster as a starring ingredient.

"Whatever." Hurt as she was that her attempt to bond had been rebuffed and belittled, the young woman rolled her head to the side and nodded defiantly. "I'll be in the dinning room at seven then, so you can plan your meal around mine. In the meantime I'll just go to the library. Maybe re-read another ancient tome on etiquette and the expectations of a woman. From the 12th century." Seen but not heard, that was the mantra back then was it not?

Mama never spoke of her daughter's father, but it was clear from the pained look in her eyes that the girl sounded just like him. Spitefully taking pride in that fact, the teen liked to imagine that her mother's throat would constrict at the thought every time the older woman would pretend to be reading a memo. In her head, mama would wax poetic about how her child would never understand that she was utterly incapable of admitting certain truths about her past, and the fantasy would continue into an unspoken apology for why she was so strict and often shut her down the way she did.

But she would never know if that was her mother's truth or not, so that meant suffering the continuation of the callous pattern. "Have fun with that sweet."

Daniella had stormed out and indeed sought solace in the one place that could comfort her. Several of the leather-bound volumes may have been authored by disreputable scoundrels, but at least the information was always there to give all its time freely. It didn't hurt any that the scattered divans were as comfortable as a cloud and tailored to let the mind recreate the various passages. Today she planed on inhabiting the navy cathedra under the window; with a view of the wooded path to the river at the edge of the estate, it was the easiest place to let her mind wander far from her first-class woes.

Arranged alphabetically by genre and interspersed with useless decor and impractical artworks, the journey to her goal entailed doubling around the ceiling-to-floor lava lamp in the middle of the room and crossing through the sparsely furnished romance nook. Watching the pigments swirl in a dance that would never end was calming, but not enough. Large as the room was, the girl could have found the book she wanted even if she had been blindfolded.

 _A General History of the Robberies and Murders of the Most Notorious Pyrates_. It was a first edition to boot. Though Mama had never approved of her little one reading most adventures (as if she had some kind of heart condition or would get ideas), she would never dream of taking away a gift. As a matter of fact, in addition to being a comfort the manuscript was actually the first present Daniella remembered ever getting.

Mama had always said that her father wasted his life on Henry Avery, but just having a copy made her feel closer to him. Re-reading entire sections that she could have quoted by heart until she fell asleep, the last thing she thought before drifting off was wondering if he would have read her this same book as a bedtime story.

Returning to the present, the girl shivered once more beneath the towel in the stranger's hotel room. "When she woke me up, Mama dragged me from the house and out into the rain without an umbrella." The kid had the look of someone that would never dream of leaving the house without one on days that were only slightly cloudy. "When she put me in the car, she made me promise that I would find Sam Drake and give him the letter. I... I have no clue what's happening, but I think... I think something bad happened to her... There was a loud bang, but it was too dark to see! I wanted to go back for her... I..."

Rambling herself into a circle, Sam put a comforting hand on her knee. Considering her age, he would have preferred it be her shoulder or someplace just as safe, but the broken bird seemed frightened enough to take too much sudden movement as a threat. Sobbing so hard that actual tears started to stream down her cheeks, the girl fell forward and hugged his knees with all the strength she had left. It reminded him of his last days in Scotland before seeking his little brother out.

Doing his utmost to simultaneously remember and not think about the time that he and Victor had celebrated a job well done with girls that ended up being a hair too young, the dashing ex-con patted her back awkwardly. It was an honest mistake, but the situation was more than enough to stick with him. Not to mention that it was an especially poignant eye-opener now that he had a young niece.

"There there, don't cry."

In all the wide world, a girl crying was probably the thing Sam was least prepared to deal with. Sure there had been tears when he'd broken up with a girl, but this was on a whole other level and like nothing else he'd encountered before. Well, almost nothing else. When their mother exited their lives, he had had an obligation to his little brother to protect him and make him feel better, to prove that just because their mom wasn't around anymore didn't mean that he'd be left alone forever by everyone he knew and loved. It was a promise he meant to keep until the grave. The real grave.

But how could he do even a fraction of that for a girl he was only just now meeting?

Squeezing his legs tighter and tighter until he thought that he'd never be able to feel anything in them ever again, she continued to mourn for her mother with almost no consideration for anything else. Unable to withstand the pain that came just before the dead sensation any longer, Sam couldn't help but to shake the blood back into his limbs. Questioning the wording to himself, the jostling broke through to the girl on some level, because the next thing either of them knew she had reached out for the arm of the wingback to use it to stand up. Far too tremulous for the effort after everything she'd been through, the girl missed her mark and ended up collapsing to the carpet. The poor thing was too distraught to even curl into the fetal position, though she clearly wanted to.

 _I've been there too kid_. "Hey," bending down into a half-crouch to help pick her up off the floor, Sam's fist instinct was to get her back up despite having no clue what the next step would be, "come on. Your mom wouldn't want you hanging around on the floor, now would she?" Ironic words with how many times he'd seen Bai willing to get dirty, but that wasn't something any child needed to ever hear about their parent.

Longing for comfort in her grief, he was only mildly surprised that the teen had taken his gesture and somehow evolved it into cradling herself in his arms. Innocent as it was, for one thing he didn't even want to think about how she sitting on him, and for another it seemed unlikely that a girl as posh as this was the kind to touch a stranger with this much ease and familiarity. Fair enough this was a different time, and he didn't know this girl from Adam (or would it be Eve?), but the way she hesitated when making contact spoke volumes.

After what was probably more than one hundred and fifty minutes of him rubbing her back as she wept, Sam noticed that the girl had fallen asleep. Scaling vertical walls with the most minimal of gear and surviving collapsing bridges was a real bitch, but the effort of lugging her to the couch without disturbing her was a whole different kind of problem. The chivalrous thing to do would have been to carry her to the bed, but he wasn't going to take that risk for one thing. For another, he'd just spent three hours in silence with a complete stranger with nothing better to do than watch the sun coming up behind her head. He wasn't kind enough to take her more than five feet, but neither was he enough of a monster to shut her out after losing her mother.

Grabbing the second pillow from the bed and deftly slipping it beneath her head, fumbling enough to illicit an unintelligible mutter, he went to back to the bed. Laying there without bothering to change out of clothes, he was grateful that the youngsters the room over had partied themselves out. Geez, if he was calling those punks youngsters...

Well unless he was mistaken and Bai had completely lied to him, it was only a matter of time before he was rich enough to rent out the surrounding rooms for the next few months. Although if he had connected the dots correctly, caring for the heiress to the Adler fortune all but guaranteed Sam could buy this whole franchise of hotels out if he wanted to.


	3. Mundane Beginnings

**\- Chapter Two -**

 **Mundane Beginnings**

Fountains of veined marble in the shape of bare-breasted angels wept tears of molten gold in his dreams.

Disembodied and without age, the one-time smoker felt his lungs constrict then deflate when he recognized his surroundings to be the emptied halls of Saint Francis' Boy's Home. Only instead of grainy wooden floors that creaked underfoot at the most inopportune junctures, the entire ground was a single roll of cherry champagne carpet. The ceiling was canvased with cobwebs and the doorways had all melted into the walls. Half strolling and half gliding, he could tell in a single glance that the windows were different from the next and all bore a striking resemblance to every impromptu exit he'd ever made. The distant yellow pinpricks of searchlights could be seen outside.

Glacial and just as degrading as _he_ had been, there was maddened laughter in the air. There was no doubt in his mind to whom the laugh belonged, yet there was something preventing the adventurer from so much as thinking the name.

Traversing the short space between the open classroom door and the trio of nephilim that stood where vulture-like Sister Helene had perched during every lesson, he reached out for the smooth stone. Before he could so much as curl his hand to cup the petrified curves, a soft sound like leaves in the wind ruffled his hair and swam across the topmost layer of his skin. Blue but lacking discernible form, the singsong disturbance was only enough to give him pause - the brunette had to touch the statue. He had to. The stonework was too beguiling to be ignored.

As expected the siren was cool to the touch, however something like a pulse rippled beneath the milky heather epidermis. Gleaming just before he had made contact, the surface of the mineral composite cracked beneath his fingertips and turned to ash in places. Once teeming with gold that was plentiful enough to flow down the three tiers and over the basin, the tears of the angels became like blood and stained his palms a sickly crimson.

Taken aback by this sudden and unexpected turn of events, the man felt himself falling backwards in slow motion; sapphire, jade, and amethyst, the morose seraphs watched passively as he was caught in a strong pair of arms. Pale as death with a self-satisfied smirk on his gaunt mug, his former partner whispered something backwards against the shell of his ear and let Sam fall.

Plummeting through a swirl of arctic powder on crumbling masonry and black satin in the dark, the grizzled brunette found himself in bed. For a split second, there was some confusion as to _which_ bed he had found himself in; ritzy as the room was, there were still a handful of options. The simple linens were reminiscent of the threadbare wisps frequently found in prison, but these were much softer. Were the colors not at such odds with what was remembered, he might have thought they belonged to someone he'd been intimately acquainted with during his two year sojourn in Scotland.

Squinting through heavy lids at the late afternoon sunlight filtering through pregnant storm clouds waiting to burst and thinned further by the blinds, Sam Drake closed his eyes in an effort to expunge the dream from his mind. He hadn't thought of that asshole in years, not even the fleeting few good times they'd shared. Given the newfound circumstances, Rafe finding his way back into Samuel's mind made sense. Not that remembering that prick was ever a pleasant experience under any situation.

 _Urgh_ , fingers fumbling across the empty mattress to the nightstand, he reached clumsily for a package that was no longer there and groaned to himself. Right, both he and Victor were going cold turkey.

For the last two months he'd been profoundly proud of himself for that fact, but at that moment he would have killed for a smoke. Between rude neighbors, half-forgotten segments of time that didn't mean enough to even attempt to remember, unexpected guests, and now nightmares of someone that was better left forgotten, he'd say that anyone would have deserved a break.

"Maybe my little brother had the right idea..." Sighing forlornly and perking up only a hair at the thought of the strong espresso he could be enjoying in a few short moments, the man knew that he couldn't linger in bed forever.

Picking himself up, the raider of truth and treasure moved to the living room to check on the girl. Well, after his additive of choice had been stirred into the glass mug - something told him this was going to be one of those days. In the back of his mind, he was wary of how easily the girl had been able to track him; taking the loaded gun he kept under the bed, Sam refused to be taken unawares. Scanning the room through the barrel of his pistol, he had relaxed and set the automatic on the counter next to the coffee machine when he saw that the room was clear.

If there truly was some sort of conspiracy and the heiress was in danger, either the antagonistic party were biding their time or else they were complete novices. Could have been both, yet... Sam couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about the entire scenario. Reviewing the facts in his head, the later option would have been preferable, but he seemed to inherit his little brother's knack for ending up on the other side of fortune's favor. Praying that thinking as much didn't jinx the situation, he hoped that there was only some rookie gunning for his client.

Client. The word had a funny taste when they hadn't expressly discussed the minutiae of the financial arrangement.

Theoretically speaking, the girl's mother had promised a sufficient amount of money if he protected her from bad individuals unknown, but if the kid was right and the worst had befallen the woman, there was no guarantee that he'd see a dime. Judging her from the previous night to be a pushover, collecting would have been a breeze, however that all could have been shock. Or an act. The heiress genuinely read as a non-threat, but he knew better than to just take anything at face value.

Naturally her father was one of the many reasons why.

"Oh Samuel," slight figure shoving off the back wall of the crooked alleyway, the icy-eyed multi-billionaire slid into focus just enough for Sam to see a sideways smirk on the other man's face, "is this really how you inspire trust in your partner?" More than slightly buzzed, the words rang in the brunette's head with an echo.

Brushing the rubble off of the taller man's shoulders - a task made easier by the fact that he was hunched over the trash can of a neighboring establishment - Rafe shifted his eyes around the rest of the alley. Back door of the bar swinging wide to reveal a kitchen boy on his way to add to the already overflowing dumpster, an unfortunate dappled cat with a squashed-in face bolted between the young man's legs. The bartender stumbled slightly but caught himself at the last moment, wary that he was being watched. From the way he had glowered at the tipsy thief as he worked, it was apparent that there was a reason Samuel was hanging out next to a gutter sporting the beginnings of a black eye. The would-be glory seeker could only guess as to what had happened.

Scarce better than strangers still, Rafe didn't know Sam well enough to question where the other brother was or why. Regardless there was just something about that one that didn't didn't sit right with the up-and-coming adventurer, so his presence wasn't missed. But Samuel...

"I suppose this means I'm just the lucky one who gets to find you three sheets to the wind." Speaking to the drunk in a concise tone, it was clear that he was only half-surprised at the state he found the elder Drake in.

After the meeting of minds earlier that day, Rafe had spent the better part of the afternoon doing research on the kind of men he was about to get into bed with. Despite what the duo may have thought of him after their previous encounter, he was willing to still give them the benefit of the doubt. Assuming that they pulled their weight and did their part, once the they had collected Avery's long-lost treasure it would be exciting to see what they would accomplish together next. The youngest of the trio had big plans for the Drake brothers. Or at least half of them.

Wavering in place as he attempted to coalesce the two men standing before him, Sam was only just realizing that this was Rafe saying that he would get them into the prison. Standing up just a little bit straighter for the illusion that he was in a place to discuss the arrangements, there was no hiding the unprofessional grin that spread across his face at the news. "Thaaz great! Nate'll besoo happy when he hears!"

Pondering if this was his new partner finding the courage to tell his brother that he failed to make the deal, or if they were out celebrating prematurely, Rafe set his musings aside and extended his hand. "Come on then."

"Rodger, dodger." Fumbling along the wall, the lanky thief waved back over his shoulder at the kitchen boy. Saying adiós to the kid as well as to the bustling establishment, he shouted something along the lines of the waitress finding him if she got bored with the barkeeper. At least that's what Rafe thought had happened, but it was already difficult for him to keep up with the language without the drunken slur. Whatever his partner had said, it didn't go over very well.

Half sprinting as he assisted the slightly taller brunette down the dusty avenue and to the car parked on the opposite side of the local watering hole, the businessman looked back over at his companion once more before opening the door. If it had come down to a fight, due to the automatic tucked neatly at his back Rafe wasn't concerned with losing. No, sometimes it was just more fun to feel the wind at your back as you kept one step ahead of danger.

Moonlight highlighting their silhouettes, as they stood in front of the limousine Sam needed to only look at Rafe to know that he was getting in over his head. Or at least he would have known then, were he not pissed as a newt and thinking of hitting the next cantina with his new drinking buddy.

Harmless as a fly, Rafe had simply returned the so-called expert's easy smile as they slid into the backseat.

"Kid's still out, huh?" Observing the slumbering youth from the back of the couch, he spoke to no one in particular. Speaking of addressing the empty room, the ex-con wondered to himself how the girl would expect him to hail her royal majesty. Would she accept whichever, or would she be one of those that was overly anal about title and name? By looks he would guess the later, but there were much bigger matters at play than him scorning her for her family ties and upbringing.

His payment, being one.

Diamonds of zero value spilling down the corner of her eyes as she slept, the adventurer wasn't even the little bit taken aback to find the heiress in such a sorry state when he went to check on his uninvited guest. Gaze lingering a moment longer, he realized that watching her was too much like watching his little brother after their mother left them. All these several decades later, and it still put a lump in the back of his throat to think about. Forget trying to talk about it.

Distantly familiar with what it was to lose the one parent that gave a damn, the ex-con turned a blind eye to the "mess" the girl had made. Like one might suspect, he was unfazed by an extra pile of clutter in his living space, however the scant proof of the kid's presence scattering the area caught his attention. Littering in the loosest terms, she had half-heartedly folded her wet clothes and placed them over the low glass surface. But it wasn't the fact that at some point in the day she'd stripped and discarded the damp fabric over the furniture for the poor maid to clean - what had caught Sam's eye were the pair of heels abandoned between the armrest and the coffee table.

Just looking at the sable heels with all their straps recalled ghost pangs of similar stilettos being forced into various parts of his own body. And once square in his face, but that was a whole other breed of story. _Still painful though_ , he thought as he rubbed his temple.

Feeling as if forgetting the past was the brunt of what he had to look forward to today, Sam noticed that the remote had fallen to the patterned carpet. Picking the glossy rectangle up, he opted to follow his morning routine as if nothing had changed and flicked on the news. Already on the proper station, the current story was fittingly some contrived quick-fix for breakfast on-the-go. As a matter of fact, it was the very kind of segment that his sister-in-law would have mocked despite lending a hand to some old buddy with a deadline and no steam. When thinking of the blonde his brother had married, he liked to imagine that she had more pride than to write for the laughingstock of the news world.

Either way, an idea was beginning to take shape. From where the brunette sat, he figured that even on the off-chance that darling daughter Adler knew how to work a microwave, the loss of her mother would be too fresh to be bothered. Despite assuming that girls nowadays (like through all of modern history) never touched food, Sam was positive that it would still do her some good to eat something. And he had just the thing...

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Nathan asked his older sibling uncertainly as they scavenged through the orphanage pantry for cooking oil. That hadn't the first time he'd asked that question that night, nor would it be the last.

Inquisitive as he had been at his brother getting him up halfway through the night, the boy was still tired. For starters spending all afternoon in detention for a fight he finished was far from conductive to a restorative rest. More vexing still was having to wake up extra early to finish the previous two weeks worth of lessons in Latin. The Latin part was a cinch for both brothers by this point, but the deadline was a hair too fine to even hope to get half the work done. Father Duffy would have been lenient and allowed an additional day at the least, but Sister Catherine seemed to have it out for the Morgan boys in particular.

Never too shy to share, Sam had some choice names for the nun. However that night was too important to be bothered by her like, so he'd taken extra care to not speak out of turn more than he could help. She was initially suspicious when he finished the last few lessons without incident (and on time), but he'd made a convincing act of it.

Conspiring secretly for the better part of a month - Sam had even gone so far as to keep tabs on the comings and goings of the cafeteria - the preteen reasoned that a reward was in order. Nathan had come to accept their lot in life with more grace and speed than any kid should have to. And since no one else was going to celebrate the two overcoming the hurdles of the past couple of years, it was his responsibility to celebrate his little brother's birthday.

Originally the plan had been to surprise his little brother with the cake, but despite his best efforts to hide it, Sam could see that Nathan could use the together time. The elder Drake had done everything he could to look out for his younger sibling, however he knew at the same time that he couldn't mother hen over the boy all the time. With the five year age difference, having different classes was both handy and sometimes a pain in that endeavor.

Holding tight to a bottle of Castor oil, the older boy feigned as if he'd been mortally wounded by his brother's words. Only half conscious of what the vile concoction he held was, Samuel clutched the vial to his breast when he gasped, "Et tu, Nathan?" When Nathan rolled his eyes at the display, Sam frowned and sombered up a few degrees. "Tough crowd. Well I'll have you know that it genuinely hurts that you don't believe in your big brother."

"I believe that you're going to get us in trouble." Nate mumbled under his breath as they resumed their venture. Sam had always possessed a flair for the dramatic, but that was part of what made him an irreplaceable assistant for the burgeoning magician. That is, when he wasn't bent double in laughter...

Tousling his brother's hair affectionately, Sam chuckled at the little punk. "How can we possibly get caught when I have Nate the Great helping me out?"

Memory a funny thing, sometimes when he walked the mountain pass of nostalgia, the one-time human chimney would snarkily add in a drop to none other than Houdini himself. Other times when reflecting back on the scene, the lankier of the brothers would just leave it there. However that verbal exchange ended, the one thing that remained the same was the outcome.

Transitioning from ancient history to the re-telling of a classic fairy tale, Sleeping Beauty had been roused by the scent of scrambled eggs and instant oatmeal. Wafting through early evening air already fragranced by the rain, the smell was so welcoming that it was almost easy to forget that the pair had slept beyond the ten hour mark. What wasn't quite as easy to acknowledge was that the past twenty-four hours had truly happened.

Greeting the man not with thanks or even some small hint of recognition when he set the steaming bowl next to her things, the girl peered up at him from beneath the now-starchy towel in confusion. Strictly speaking, the fog was so thick that her countenance was emptier than a blank slate with a raised brow. Contradictory perhaps, he was already back tending to his own meal when comprehension dawned on the young woman.

Everything rushing back in a jumbled tidal wave, her face fell as if her unwitting host had just admitted to poisoning the food. As badly as she'd wanted it all to be nothing more than a bad dream, it would have been kinder if he had. _Mama._

Suffocating in the abyss, everything looked as if the edges were beginning to dim to monochrome. It hurt everywhere; even pausing to consider getting up from the couch was too much to bear. Her stomach growled to motivate her to eat the oatmeal and eggs being presented, but she only stared at the normal American (perhaps elsewhere, she wasn't quite that traveled) breakfast. Maybe if there was a side shot of some toxin being offered...

Wolfing down his own grub directly from the skillet, when he wasn't burning his tongue on the amber scramble, Sam noted that she hadn't so much as attempted to rejoin reality. Not even so much as a wiggle from her big toe. It was like reliving those first several months with his brother all over again.

"Yoonothayurenogootaanyonifyostarffyurseftadeth." Stuffing his face with the fluffy yellow decadence before it got cold, he had to swallow and try again so that she would understand. "You know that you're no good to anyone if you starve yourself to death, right?" He shouldn't have scarfed all that food - it was already starting to give him heartburn. He'd like to say that this was a learning experience for him, but it was only a matter of time before history repeated itself.

"..."

Ice surrounded her heart and each breath cut at her lungs, however there was nothing left in the world. Not her unfinished astronomy project, not the fact that the last thing she'd eaten were a couple of peaches after school, not the cutie from economics asking for her help on an assignment. Not even Jay asking her to help out after class was enough to phase her. The upcoming vacation to Italy, the yearly sojourns to King's Bay, tryouts for the surf team, the smell of sugar on plain oatmeal, nothing was real nor held any weight. Completely at the stranger's mercy, anything could have transpired and it wouldn't have changed a thing. Something should have stuck, should have helped her to find the path back from the brink, but there was only darkness at her feet.

Flitting across her face for just a moment when he posed the question, the former inmate could tell that there was something like guilt buried below the surface. But it was so deep down, so hidden away that he doubted she was even aware of the almost display of emotion.

Nathan hadn't made it easy either, but somehow he'd found a way to get his brother to carry on when things were at their bleakest (by the untested standards of children). Now that he was an adult with so much more experience to draw from, trying to help the heiress was like smacking his head against a brick wall. It was transparent that no matter what he said the girl would only continue to stare out into the void and refuse to move.

 _This was going to be fun_...

On one hand he could always guilt her into doing it for herself, or on the other he could force-feed her. But what could he possibly say to the kid that would get her to respond to the situation? Both Rafe and Bai would have taken the former course of action, though if they were there to do so now there really wouldn't have been much of a problem. Knowing the both of them as intimately as he did, the liberator of fine artifacts knew that it wouldn't have been as simple as a stern lecture with her parents. But he wasn't bound by any such label.

"Little girl," wiping his mouth with the back of his hand after pounding out a belch, the only mildly penitent thief removed himself from the kitchenette to march back to the sitting room, "I will make you eat this if I have to-"

 _Knock, knock, knock_.

Half expecting her royal highness to be traveling with a following parade of outrageously sized matched luggage to meet her every whim, it occurred to him that this could just be a butler. A really, _really_ tardy butler. Peeking around at the girl for a hint that she was expecting someone, when none were forthcoming the slightly paranoid ex-con pulled out yet another hidden piece. Say what you would, but Sam was really against being taken unawares. Again.

"What's that?" Throat cracking like a thunderstorm in the desert, the teen leaned forward just enough to peek at the front door. Whatever might have been going on in her head, there was enough of a brain present to figure out what this could mean. Terrified that this might have spelled out her demise, the final page in her short life, it struck the young woman that she wasn't ready to meet her ancestors. Not yet.

But living was still too much to ask.

Exponentially more surprised to see the gun than she ought to have been, Daniella cast an edgewise glance at the space between the generic off-set coffee table and the sofa. In her minds eye she could picture herself cowering after finding the drive to spring from her numb stupor; all it would take to make her vision come true would be a kind of rolling flop off the couch. Maybe some additional hugging of the carpet to keep her head beneath the lip of the cushions. All in all, safety was obtainable.

Key word being was.

Perhaps she would always lack the skill it took to be Olympian material, but she was far from useless - trained in several athletic styles from fencing to swimming, the teen enjoyed less rich kid clichés such as surfing, rock climbing, and kayaking. Mama wanted her daughter to be rounded as a person, and whenever Daniella tried to quit, all it she had to hear from her mother was that it was what her father would have wanted.

True or not, it had been sufficient motivation to keep her practicing. In her head, she knew that she had to tap into that same level of determination to do what had to be done, however her heart wasn't capable of getting with the program. Not at the present. Witnessing whatever it was that happened to Mama, the girl should have been ready to flee at a moments notice if need be, yet she just didn't have it in her.

 _Knock, knock, knock_. Whoever was on the other side wasn't going to just go away.

Armed in the same fashion as last night when the golden ticket had been shivering outside his room, the many-faceted expert opened the sturdy wooden portal the smallest possible fraction that he could. Rooted firmly in place for another knock, a male figure in a dark coat stood alone in the hallway. Once Drake had opened the door, the unarmed stranger drew back his hood and shook out the sprinkling of rain that had accumulated beneath the dusty chocolate brim. Green eyes full of life, dirty blonde hair shaved on one side and styled in a man bun, the tattooed surfer-bum looked like he had washed up on the wrong coast.

"Hello?" Peering around the door at Sam, the man appeared to be nearing his late thirties, granted appearances could be deceptive. Were it not for the obvious discrepancies and the cargo shorts, the man could have passed for his double.


	4. That's Egg On Your Face

**\- Chapter Three -**

 **That's Egg On Your Face**

No. No. No, no, no.

Breathless as an overly excited child that had been waiting an entire lifetime to meet a long-time idol, the energetic man at the door introduced himself, "I'm Logan. Savage. Crystal's son." Elaborating piece by piece as the ex-con gazed at him with mounting disquiet in his hazel eyes, if one listened closely they could make out the vaguest hint of the old neighborhood in the kid's accent. "I'm looking for Sam Morgan."

Sam Morgan. Now that was a name that he hadn't heard in decades, but for good reason. More concerning than hearing the surname of a dead man long buried and gone, somehow, was not the mystery of who had dug it up but why. Perhaps once the mastermind's intention became clear, the brunette would ask who was behind the curtain, but until then that could wait. Clearly this had to be someone's idea of a sick and sadistic joke, because at this point in time there was only reason to be turning up stones looking for Sam Morgan.

Not for a lack of practice - _so much practice_ \- the expert historian had never once in his life been accused of being anyone's father. Not once. Granted there weren't many areas where he fell short, history and experience had proven beyond the shadow of a doubt that it was just one of the few tasks he wasn't up to. Socially, in nearly all his informal relationships the veteran thief could add follow-up of any variety to the list.

Although seeing the lean man standing before him, it was a hair more than pretty damn difficult to dispute the resemblance. Six foot tall, lanky build, same general hairline, the more that one looked, the more similarities were there to count. In a court of his peers, he'd have to say nay, it just wasn't possible. Yet if seeing was believing and this kid was what he seemed... how many more might there have been? Too dangerous a road to go down, especially at this point in his life, Sam refused to buy it.

When he had learned that Nathan had settled down in the fifteen years they'd been apart, Sam honestly had his doubts that it was going to be serious enough to last, so he never really stopped to fit Elena into the equation of his plans to find Avery's treasure. She was his little brother's problem, so getting caught in the lie was nothing more than a minor upset - the elder Drake had laid too much on the line to let some broad stand in the way. But then he met her, and he started to see why she meant so much to his little brother. Considering the power of her backhand and the ferocious way she fought off Shoreline, if he had to have a sister, he was glad that it was her.

Then they had Cassie. Nathan was so scared at the thought of being a dad that he looked like he was perpetually on the verge of fainting throughout his wife's pregnancy. After the way they had grown up, who could blame him? Somehow though, even in spite of what their family and friends were, those two had done a good job with their little girl. Initially the elder Drake had questioned the decision to name her after their mother - vocally at that - but now that she was growing into her own person, Sam couldn't imagine a better name for her.

Except... As much as he loved his niece (and Elena), he couldn't envision having a kid of his own. In terms of the family tree, he was better being the branch that stood on its own to reach for its own destiny. Baby carriages and Sunday brunch with the old ball and chain were fine for some people, but he hadn't changed his opinion that that sort of thing wasn't for him. Despite the efforts he had started to make with his little girl just before the end, Rafe wasn't cut out for that life either.

Christ, he really could have gone for a cigarette right about then.

Hands shaking behind the wooden portal, the man kept a composed face. If he'd been able to lie to his little brother for as long as he had about the whole Alcázar thing, then there was no way that a stranger would be exempt from his masterful skill. "Sorry pal, name's Drake." Strictly speaking, he wasn't sorry in the slightest to close the door in the kid's face. "You must have the wrong address."

Sharper than the lunkhead Sam had initially taken him for, Logan shook his head as he slipped his toe between the doorway. "I don't think so." The surfer shook his head to punctuate his point. "The P.I. I hired lost your scent in Panama, but he managed to dig up enough dirt to confirm that the two most likely candidates have a younger brother named Nathan."

"Do I need to call up security to remove you for a coincidence? Really?" The gun in his hand was beginning to slip from all the sweat that was coating his palm, so he readjusted his hold on the weapon. Motion creating a soft shuffling noise and light tap against the wood, the blonde gave no indication that he had heard.

Logan wasn't going to be turned away without a fight, that much was clear. "Nathan Drake is quite the legend they say. But there was never any previous mention of a brother, so I thought that maybe it was just a coincidence. Like you said." Inclining his head, Sam noted that the blonde was both expressive and prone to gesticulating with his hands. "I've been searching for so long, I didn't want to admit that this was another dead end - so I hired a second P.I. The day before my wedding," Logan took extreme care to flash the simple golden band on his left hand, "he found you in Eastern Europe with your colleague, Victor Sullivan. Dirty business, wasn't it?"

Not many people had been privy to that information. Not even Nate had known of the excursion, and despite everything his little brother liked to keep tabs on where in the wide world his family roamed. Or maybe it was because of everything that he liked to know, just in case. It seemed to set his mind at peace either way, so when there was no immediate danger of the settled Drake knowing, they usually kept the working father informed on their whereabouts. But not that time.

Repeating himself, Logan could tell that he had finally found what he had spent the better part of his adult life fighting to find. "I've been looking for you for a long time."

Lowering his firearm before it accidentally went off, the world was starting to spin around Sam. Lost in time, it registered (however barely) that the kid had mentioned the name Crystal. Racking his brain during the entire conversation, the brunette could only think of one Crystal that knew him as Sam Morgan. But he didn't want to believe what this man was trying to sell. He couldn't. Yet all the same, everything he knew was flashing before his eyes. _Was this what dying felt like?_ His mind raced back to when he had failed to escape from Panama with Nathan and Rafe, but he honestly couldn't remember anything after the bullets had punctured his abdomen and he fell through the roof.

 _Only the darkness and the fall..._

Fickle in that the body and heart were at odds with one another, Daniella tossed around halfheartedly. Each blow in the war causing the springs of the leather-like sofa to groan, in the struggle to contemplate making herself a smaller target, the teen inadvertently realized that she was weaker from hunger than originally thought. Foolish enough to literally sway with each point her psyche made, it was her own fault that the battle ended with her toppling off the divan with a silence-shattering crash.

Plummeting to the floor in a near-naked heap, the first thing that the heiress noticed about her new position was that her head was ringing from how hard she'd knocked herself on the floor. Give it time, and it would probably develop into a minor headache. Feeding into one another, the second and third things to catch the attention of the most graceful of young women were a hairsbreadth away from being simultaneous. Twisted around and out of the one thing that had been blocking the sight of the rich lass in her intimates from the world, in her rush to reach for cover, the twee teen's wrist throbbed dully from where it had connected with the coffee table.

On edge from the lack of action and eager for any excuse to send the surfer away, the professional thief slammed the door shut without preamble at the commotion in the next room. Division of areas used in the loosest of terms due to the open construction of the hotel, technically the only things separating the antechamber from the sitting room was a double archway with optional shutters and a declining step that promised to be the eventual death of a drunk alone.

In his haste to check on the girl, it slipped his mind to fasten the lock before dashing off.

Finger just itching for an excuse to pull the trigger, Drake was disappointed to find that the only danger present in the room was the teen. She was probably his punishment for wanting one last great adventure before he retired.

"Let me guess, there was a spider?" There weren't many that were fond of the arachnid family, and this girl definitely did not look like an exception. Kept to the point of being called immaculate, Rafe had resided in grandeur that befit his wealth, so it only made sense that his daughter would inhabit a fancy mansion with servants so good at their jobs that the girl had probably never seen a spider in her life.

Difficult to tell as it was from their respective angles, it almost looked like she was trying to leer at him.

Critical as Mama had been, Daniella had gone to public schools during the years her mother deemed to be of less crucial importance, i.e. preschool through kindergarten and all of middle school. When asked about why she had made the decision to separate her daughter's school career in such a fashion, the woman's measured response had been that it was healthier socially to get to understand all sorts. Hedging her bets to be safe, Bai had hired private tutors to pick up the slack of the education system throughout the years, six in all. Seven, if you counted the one that had been fired within the first semester for pushing their own political agenda. But yes, the heiress had seen spiders before.

Questioning if the lack of feedback was due to her being too crushed to muster the strength or if it was because the girl was genuinely hurt from her maybe two foot drop, he holstered his gun at his back and knelt down by her side. Ultimately it would come down to him having to lug her around somewhere, but it remained to be seen where. For now what mattered was making sure she hadn't broken herself before he could collect. Alive was the important thing, but there were some that were frugal enough to reduce the final payout for things like the thinest of scratches.

"Alright, what's the damage?" Kind enough, he averted his gaze from where the lace padding and contoured wires wanted his dark eyes to roam.

Career in the medical field not a viable option on the table in her mind, it was easy enough to guess that she would walk out of this with a bruise or two. Better safe than sorry, the teen had been through enough physicals to know to move her other joints and limbs around to ascertain the extent of the collapse. Bringing her uninjured hand up from her side to hold the shoulder that had absorbed some of the crash, there wasn't so much as a grunt. Hips no more sore from the tumble than they ought to have been, legs bending at the knee, each piggy wiggling of their own accord, spine slowly curling this way and that, everything seemed to be in order.

Each performing their own examination, they both came to the conclusion that this was nothing to worry about. Extra mindful of where exactly he was placing his hands, Sam pumped both elbows - one right after the other - and manually guided the girl as she raised and lowered her shoulders into the air without a peep. Rotating her hips own her own accord and catching the fringes of his attention by making it a full-body examination, the only relevant occurrence was a sharp murmur when he pressed his fingers into an old scar on her wrist. Other than that, neither said a single word the entire time.

Broken arm coming as a bit of shock from someone that looked so refined, he deemed her to be fit by the expressions to swim across her face and the little sounds to escape from her mouth. Rather she earned a clean bill of health from a lack of response, but screw the semantics.

"You'll live."

Counting her blessings that this wasn't anything to cry over (with the possible exception of how rough the stranger was) he was even more disheartened by the outcome. The ex-con didn't want to see the girl suffering per say, it just would have been some consolation at least to have to take her out of there in a hurry. On the bright side, this had gotten him away from that Logan character. The down side there was that he would probably be staking the place out, just waiting for his chance.

Dangerously close to letting out a whimper when he touched the exact spot that had collided with the table leg, the girl merely winced when Sam slung his arm across the expanse of her back to move her into an upright position. Clean bill of health or no, the next step of the transition was to get that plate of food into her belly; Drake meant it when he threatened to force her to eat. After this little accident he figured that she would be more pliable to his demand, but the stock she came from had a long history of being stubborn. Especially where he was involved.

Enjoying the fluffy yellow chunks even more when they had been mixed with the swollen oats swimming in the white porcelain bowl, the heiress nodded at the brunette in gratitude. It turned out that the stranger's cooking warranted compliment, but between the strain and how difficult it had been to convince her to finish the entire portion on her own, it wasn't going to happen. Good manners and years of lectures screaming at her to get over herself and the selfishness of her grief, Daniella truly was tempted...

Or at least she had been, until some of the egg had crumbled off the end of her fork and ended up wedged between her bra. While it was one thing to find herself propped against his chest like a baby so he could work her jaw, there was a whole other level of embarrassment in dribbling food down her front when she wasn't squirming to free herself. Skin still red as a steamed lobster from the first spoonful of oatmeal that had splashed on her thigh, the heiress rued underestimating Sam Drake. _Like she knew that he was going to honor his promise!_

"Sam..." Practically inaudible due to how raw her throat doubtlessly was from crying all night, the pathetic attempt to manage croaking out even that much was taxing. Despite being inches from second base for the past few minutes, even in her distressed state there was a hesitance in anyone seeing her picking out her bra.

Thought of her mother being gone weighing too much to be self-conscious about hanging around in her skivvies, the truth was that she hadn't even spared a second thought to her state of dress after her downward trip. It probably helped matters that the stranger was more focused on making her eat than anything else. All the same, sprinkling the lukewarm lumps between her skin and the thin colored material was both nasty and a reminder of the fact that she was that exposed. Ladies just did not make those kinds of adjustments, in front of anyone.

Sticking by the heiress like white on rice to be a hundred percent sure that she was a good girl and finished her meal, it did not escape his notice that part of her breakfast had crumbled and missed her mouth. Nor did it elude him where it fell.

Free a word unfamiliar to the pair, the ex-con figured that with so much of the food already cleaned out now was as good a time as ever to spare them both by fetching her an old shirt to barrow. Toying with the idea of keeping a tab ever since piecing together who the girl was - as well as a grand or two (or five, depending on how much she ended up emulating dear old dad) for who she was related to on principle - this made up his mind. Sure there were more than enough old clothes in the dresser to spare, but there was no guarantee they'd be returned in the state he lent them out in. Besides, it would do the girl good to learn that not everything was going to be handed to her in life.

Getting up with more than one protesting pop and grating groan from his bones, the old thief paused when there was another tentative knock at the door. To his credit, the surfer had waited several minutes for the source of the crash to be sorted out, but no one's restraint was limitless. Obviously forgetting that they had had a visitor prior to this experience, she had looked at the man for an answer. It was hardly of importance, so he simply shrugged it off. Just like he shooed away the pesky unwanted thought of what an extraordinary amount of self-control the surfer had displayed, considering who's son he was.

Her royal majesty stated, at least for the moment, Sam peeked over once more at the increasingly assertive second knock. Somewhat distracted by the balls on that tatted-up beach rat, he absently plucked the golden confection from the heiress's person and popped it into his mouth as he ambled around the sofa to the bedroom. Even cold, as he sucked the remaining pieces off his finger and thumb he had to hand it to himself - his cooking skills were pretty damn good.

Written in the last look flashed between the duo, when he disappeared into the room it was with the unspoken expectation that she would be finished by the time he returned. Back to the main entry and heiress chowing down in his peripherals, he ignored the third tap on the door. Pondering to himself how many knocks it took to get to the center of his message, the brunette glanced at the clock on the nightstand. So early and yet already so late into the day. Contemplating how soon after her meal he would turn to the girl for whatever answers she may have to fill in the blanks of the story, he remembered that there was a shotgun tucked neatly in the bottom drawer. Opening the middle section of the dresser first, he grabbed the first thing to cross his path. Removing both the weapon and a stone gray thermal stained brownish crimson up to the elbow on one side, Drake thought to himself that he could kill two birds with one stone.

Alerted once more by the girl screaming - though the sound was almost too raspy to be considered the same as your average shriek - the pickpocket bolted back. Hanging ajar and letting in the mixed smells of rain, lemon-scented cleaning solution, and room service, the front door was open. Praying that it was finally an assassin or some other reason to justify being so heavily armed, instead what he found was the surfer frozen at the sight of the teen. Of course that had to be the case.

 _This. Day._

Unsure if it was more consternation or chagrin, as he approached the scene Sam noted that the bowl had been thrown across the room at the intruder. Aim a bit anemic but release dynamite, the cheap ceramic had hit the wall and cracked down the middle before making it to the floor. Considering the lean muscle the girl had been hiding the night before underneath feminine crochet, he wasn't surprised in the slightest by the discovery. In fact he was just glad to see that in the event of a threat, she had the fight-or-flight response required to save herself. Naturally he'd do what he could, but there would be times that she'd have to fend for herself.

Once she saw that Sam had returned, the look in her eyes accused him of lying when he told her that the person at the door wasn't anything to concern herself with. As if he had known that the surfer would just stroll in! _Women._ Even in miniature, they seemed so very fond of blaming him for this or that. Ordinarily he had a fix for that, but somehow the usual tricks didn't seem like they would be the solution this time around.

Tone completely altered from what it had been when standing in the hallway (before he had been assaulted by dish projectiles), Logan followed the teen's example and looked over his back at the other side of the room. Spotting Sam, he nodded sheepishly over at Daniella and shuffled back half a step from the open living room. "Hi. Again. Did I catch you at a bad time?"

No small amount of judgment in his emerald eyes, the younger of the two men was less than enthusiastic about what he had walked in on. Worst case scenario, the man he thought was his father was involved in way worse dealings than he had been led to believe. When it was just smuggling and lifting the odd artifact (which the child in him had thought was pretty damn cool), that was something he could have lived with. But to stumble across an underage Asian girl half-naked on the couch... that was just too far over the line of acceptability. Poor thing probably didn't even speak a lick of English.

Initially when the P.I. had warned Logan that Sam had been couped up in his hotel room for the better part of sixteen hours with a young woman, he had been impressed that someone so old had that kind of stamina. In fact it gave him hope for his own marriage. The current P.I. he was working with was very thorough and obviously worth every penny. Although it would have been nice if he had been better prepared to discover that the "young woman" in question was actually just a teenage girl.

Joking about this in the future aside - if that were possible - Drake kicked around some of the china shards on his way over to the paycheck. Heiress. Whatever the difference was. "Good to see that your made yourself comfortable, Ludwig."

All the glue in the world wouldn't have been enough to repair the devastation, so he assumed that most of the power in her attack had been fueled by fear. Either way, there was the capacity to do what needed to be done lurking inside. _I'm almost proud of the kid._ Aware of what was probably running through the mind of the blonde, he simply looked at the kid and shrugged. If he wanted to jump to conclusions, that was only going to make him look like the jerk in the end.

The longer that the surfer stared over at the girl, the more that Sam found himself wanting to throw something over her and/or shove her out of the spotlight. At the very least that would have meant something to his little brother. Oblivious to what was going on in the mind of the brunette, the younger man automatically corrected the mistake. "It's Logan."

Logan, as in Logan Savage?! Jaw dropping in sheer surprise, the part of the girl that wasn't terrified to find someone else returning in place of the stranger could have smacked herself for not recognizing the famous surfer. After all, she'd only had his poster hanging in her gym locker for the last two years now, there was no reason she would recognize the man she'd spent five minutes a week admiring. _Dumb, dumb, dumb!_

"Whatever." Something more than a hint of life sparking behind the sapphire tsunami in her eyes, it was a safe bet to assume that under normal circumstances she would be star-struck. The hell if he cared what the other man's name was, or that the teen seemed to recognize him. Setting the loaded shotgun against the back of the coach as he stood between the two, Samuel was less than thrilled with the both of them. "Right now I just see an intruder."

Gulping nervously at the sight of the gun that he had not previously noticed, as well as the second firearm secured at the other man's belt loop, Logan took another cautious step backwards. "The door wasn't locked, and you were taking so long I was worried that something had happened..."

Trailing off the blonde could barely swallow his own bullshit - anyone need only to take a single look at Sam to know that the man could take care of himself. As for anything drastic taking place behind closed doors, there were no follow-up sounds to indicate that something untoward had transpired. You know, unless you counted the whole cradle robbing thing.

"Whatever you say, Point Break." Tossing the teen the balled-up shirt, he decided in that moment to charge her fifty for this and an additional hundred for the meal. An extra twenty would go towards the broken dinnerware. Or maybe he'd even add in an additional zero to the tally - why stiff himself when the sky was the limit? "As for you, Miss Royal-Pain-In-My-Ass, you have some drool to clean up." She didn't, but that didn't stop him from motioning to his chin.

Raised by a woman that was pretty much running the criminal world, the ex-con would have expected the richest girl in the world to know how to act around a celebrity. Illicit earnings aside, by all logic a girl born into money should know that kind of etiquette. Positive that her father would have disapproved of her fawning as much as he did, Drake could tell that she would have been itching to jump out of her skin as she tip-toed ever closer to the lapse of fear and better judgment. Guess it was a good thing for everyone that she was still borderline catatonic. Not nearly catatonic enough, if she was so easy to read.

Still uncertain of their next move (after getting rid of the surfer bro for good), once they did inevitably get the show on the road, all of that blood was bound to draw attention sooner or later. Still though, it was better than having her wandering the streets in her underwear. That would have drawn too much attention, no matter how old she had been.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her petite little hand, Daniella was already wiggling into the shirt before she noticed the stain on the sleeve. Refusing to even think of what had caused such a mess, or if there was even a remote possibility that she could still end up catching something, the young lady was just relieved to have something that was dry.

"Are you sure that it was drool?" Missing that Sam was just messing with the girl's head and calling her out for the way that she had looked at the surfer, Logan was still conflicted about the teen's presence. The ease in which she had wormed into the top did nothing to assuage his suspicions, and the fact that she paid no heed of the blood on the shirt only made it worse in his head. But he decided that his business with the so-called Drake was more important.

Happy to be covered once more, she inclined her head once more in Sam's direction. Maybe the average person would have seen her as 'normal', but in her head she didn't have the confidence it took to wear a two-piece. From her perspective, the heiress was already another victim of modern media and being insecure over the outcome of living a active lifestyle, so this ordeal had done nothing to help her self-esteem. Mama was flawless and could have been a model if she'd so wished - if you overlooked the fact that she was few inches shy of the six foot mark - but the daughter was nothing like that.

Adolescent stage best described as being an awkward kind of puffy someplace between flabby and muscular, now that she was more developed her shape was even more distorted in her head. An inverted triangle with broad shoulders and arms fashioned by paddling on top, at the bottom she was left with scrawny little legs and surprisingly weak ankles. Don't even get her started on her lack of _other_ curves...


	5. Just Turn Around While You Still Can

**\- Chapter Four -**

 **Just Turn Around While You Still Can**

Choices boiling down to either bemoaning just how much he wished he had a cigarette or pretending to bite the bait, it was a no brainer. Electing to ignore the previous several ticks of the clock, the grizzled ex-con was done with the lot of children. The heiress was just draining (albeit she had a damn good reason to be), and the most likely of conclusions of why the surfer was after him was for money. If that ended up being the case, the blonde was going to be sorely disappointed. Almost as disappointed as he was that babysitting the girl hadn't changed much in the twenty or so years he'd last been left with the task.

Examining what he was doing with his life (or more accurately what he was doing with such sorry security), Sam could only ask himself how they managed to find him at the same time. "So you're Crystal's kid, huh?"

"Yea." Bobbing his head as if he thought this was a tryout for becoming the next bobble-head or inflatable waving arms tube man, the bunned blonde seemed pleased that Sam had remembered his mother. That joy quickly soured when he thought of what the woman's exact reaction had been to his decision to track down his biological father. "Before you get the wrong idea here, she actually advised me against trying to find you." If Logan really did come into his own like the girl led him to believe, the surfer tracking him down made even less sense.

Faded as his childhood was now, if he was even thinking of the right girl Sam could imagine that response after the way they had parted ways. Then again he could also foresee her trying to get something out of him just as easily. Although why she would bother with him after all of these decades and a pretty thorough name change was a bit of a conundrum. "How's that saying go - mother knows best?"

"That's actually why I had to find you. At first I started my search just so I could know more about myself, but now-"

Unable to finish that train of thought, there was yet _another_ knock on the door. Misanthropically entertaining the idea of some kind of electric shock system to discourage visitors, Drake figured that by this juncture they may as well have been hosting some kind of convention. _Ha, the first-ever "Sam Drake is not the father" con. Now that would be a packed house!_ Statistically speaking, with all the people across the globe that couldn't attend, what should have been easy cash would have quickly turned into a bust with less-than-encouraging returns. Seriously though, if these kids wanted to look to him to be their father-figure, they were barking up the wrong tree.

Good God, he needed more sleep. And a good, long smoke break. He'd settle for the cigarette happily at this point.

Taking a deep breath to quash the cravings that were gnawing the already frayed ends of his nerves, if the brunette were to compile a list, it was worth remembering that he never had been able to get the kind of company he had actually desired. Glancing back over at the girl as she retreated back into her shell, Sam guessed that it would be a while before he'd be making that call. Unless...

More coffee - perhaps with a shot of something stronger this time - wouldn't be too bad either. Reminding himself that the heiress was scarcely a hair older than his niece, and that to put out such an offer at the time being would be taking advantage of her grief, he went to open the door. With how anti-climatic the day had turned out so far, the adrenaline-chasing explorer didn't even bother to get his hopes up when he turned around to face the bland wooden portal. It was either just the maid or the apology he was never going to get from the assholes next door.

Shockingly, it was neither.

Battered past the point of recognition, dark hair disheveled and falling over lenses that were bent, cracked down one side, and bloodied, the woman swaying in the hallways was noticeably pale from blood loss. Knee-length pencil skirt ripped up the side and dove collar tattered from struggle, the bespectacled brute looked as if she had literally just been through hell and had only barely managed to return form the ordeal. It would certainly explain most of the shining crimson flowing down her front. Terror shining in her blue eyes - genuine horror that he had only seen once before - Bai stumbled forward into his arms.

Thunder cracking ominously overhead, she clenched his sleeves through shaking fingertips. The prints she left behind were mostly freshly-dug dirt. "Daniella? Did she find you?" His eyes roamed automatically over to where the girl was watching from the couch, and Bai was quick to follow his gaze. Sapphires locking onto her daughter, the woman let go of Sam and rushed to embrace her daughter. "Daniella!"

If losing her mother had rocked the foundation of everything she knew, Bai's return had sent the world spinning off its axis. Mouth falling slack, the teen's renewed heartbeat was loud enough for all to hear, even against the drizzle that was beginning to pick up outside. Jumping from the back of the sofa to greet her mother that much sooner, stumbling slightly, the heiress didn't even realize that she was running over glass shards when wrapping her arms around her mom. Neither paid much mind to all the blood decorating the other's person.

Finally, color was beginning to return to the world. "Mama!"

Hugging her daughter tight in her arms, every time that Bai had ever been strict or harsh or even the tiniest bit of less than encouraging had vanished, all of the negative instantly replaced with every last ounce of love she had. Daniella was her whole life, she had been ever since she discovered that she was pregnant, and it was clear that that wasn't going to change until her last breath. Even then, there would be no less love. The woman had once risked everything for that girl, and there was no question that she wouldn't do it again.

Lips affectionately pecking every last inch of her offspring's head that they could find, the woman looked up at Sam and smiled at him for perhaps the first time ever. Where there had once been criticism and just enough bored disdain to carry them through was now genuine gratitude. "Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I owe you, Sam." If she had resorted to using his first name, he knew that things were serious. Either that or she had lost what was left of her mind.

Regardless of what the answer was, she needn't worry her pretty little head about finding a way to repay him - he knew _exactly_ what Bai could do to reimburse him.

Tears leaking freely once more, hands latching into the woman's shoulder blades as she clung to the soaked fabric for something real to hold on to, the heiress sobbed into her mother. Cloying, something overly sweet and bitter was covering the soft perfume the woman wore, and the wet grains that hadn't been washed away by the heavens were getting into the girl's eyes, but she was too afraid to let go. What if this was only a dream, or worse, what if she looked away for just an instant and her mother were to vanish again, only for good? No, Daniella would fight through it.

"Mama!" It was undeniably true that crying all night had taken its toll on the teen, yet this was that rare instance when a single word was all that was required to convey everything that needed to be said.

Unlike Daniella, who was at that moment incapable of saying anything more, Bai had a great deal to explain. Holding her baby with the wish to never let go ever again, the unkempt businesswoman steered her daughter back to the couch so she could sit and catch the breath she had been holding since the night before. It was too quick for the untrained eye to see, however she nodded approvingly when the one from Panama locked the door at her back. The attack on the manor was dealt with, but the danger to her most precious treasure had yet to pass.

"I really do owe you for everything you've done, Drake." Moment of kindness gone, she addressed the ex-con in as polite a manner as she could, though he could tell by the condescending why she said his name that even that much generosity was killing her. "When I gave my driver the directions to my mechanic's place, I could see the questions in his eyes. I wonder if he questioned why I had your 'home' address?" By the callous way she had written the chaffer off, it was not a far stretch of the imagination to surmise that the woman had made a few pit stops before finding her darling daughter. In the interest of not being followed, it was a wise call.

With some of the scratch he'd earned from his various misadventures, Sam had opened up a modest string of humble shops. Between his love of bikes and the extra income it earned for when he wasn't off in some grand unexplored region of the world, it was a logical investment. Quite lucrative too. Servicing anyone, about three years ago now there had been a rich sap he'd charged triple for a simple repair, but the moron had been so impressed that he'd opted to start coming in regularly. Over time, the arrangement had gone from dirt bikes to classic cars. Those he wasn't quite as familiar with, but with the business generated by that one twit alone it was worth brushing up.

Duped by what was most likely a personal assistant or underpaid actor of some kind, ultimately the real schmuck wasn't the one shelling out a good grand per job. Bravo - er, brava. Point to Bai for sneakily managing to keep tabs on a low-life without dirtying her own hands. "I'm honored that you remembered me after all these years." In light of this revelation, it occurred to him that she'd be frugal enough to demand her money back, current situation be damned. "Yeah, all services rendered are final. No refunds."

"Wait," wiping her eyes with heather sleeves too long for her arms, the teen reluctantly tore her eyes off her mother as Sam sat down in the arm chair opposite for story time, "you mean you're the one that fixed up my bike? I got sixth place because of you!" Wow, the kid was really jazzed that she hadn't even cracked the top five. Was Bai absolutely sure that this was Rafe's kid?

Speaking of questionable parentage, Logan was still standing where he'd been before Bai's miraculous return from the other side, frozen yet deflated. Hardly believing what he was about to do, the brunette motioned for the surfer to come join them. Mindful of allowing the reunion and honestly in complete disbelief about the teen being able to speak English after all, the surfer dipped his saffron knot meekly and sat on the other side of the girl. She spared him a second glance as he sat, but there was barely a reaction there otherwise. Pretty cold, considering that two seconds before all of this she probably wanted an autograph.

No more pleased about her daughter's tomboyish (and frankly all too similar to her father) fascination with keeping active, Bai pursed her lips. Whatever monsters were lurking in the shadows just biding their time were no match for the distaste the businesswoman held for the reminder of her ex. "Yes, that victory was definitely worth it. Regardless, there are things that actually matter that must be discussed. Darling, if you'd please keep your mouth shut, Mama has a lot to explain. To the both of you." At that, she seemed to notice that there was a third person in the room for the first time. "Ah. I see some things never change."

Suddenly Sam remembered why he only recalled so much about his relationship with Bai. However he wasn't the only one that had ended things on a less-than-friendly note with the woman.

Gathered around outside the front door of one Henry Avery's mansion in New Devon with all his good friends at Shoreline and one slipping financier, one of Nadine's goons had commented on how big the place was. The man's friend had thumped him in the back of the head for being dumb enough to make such an obvious observation. Knot had rolled his eyes, knowing what was about to happen, and Orca unhelpfully chimed in that any mansion would be big for a house. Rafe, who was getting more and more impatient the closer they got to finding the treasure, told both grunts in no uncertain terms that they could go and join the next shift. Nadine had just let it happen.

After that whole ugly scene on the cliff had unfolded - not that he was too worried about his little brother finding his way through it somehow - Sam was determined to make the hunt as difficult on Rafe as he possibly could.

"You have to admit that that's an excellent point," salt on a wound he had just learned about, the ex-con had plenty of ammo at his disposal, "this is a pretty big place. Maybe your old lady can look into renovating the next time she's shopping for summer homes. Oops, I forgot, she's not going to want such a small place, is she? No, a woman with balls that big is going to need more room to put all that cash she's going to make from that hostile takeover she's working on."

Stopping dead in his tracks a few feet from the foot of the stairs, the multi-billionaire could be heard gritting his teeth from the other side of the island. Poking a tiger in a too-small cage may have been a dangerous pastime, yet it was damn fun to watch.

"I don't have the same head for business that you two do, but I heard that when she left for Beijing, she made a deal with some old friends. Dangerous friends." Playing the innocent, the elder Drake brother acted as if he were frightened for the poor soul she had named at the head of her list. Apparently from the gossip going around the lower ranks, Bai had some good connections back in China that no one had been privy to previously. Not even Rafe. "For me, I would imagine that going after a family business with those kinds of numbers would be overkill."

Petty a jab as it had been, the remark had sent a palpable ripple amongst the army-for-hire. The only reason - other than on Nadine's order - that they had kept from taking out their aggressions on the rich American had been because he was fronting the whole operation at the time, but if during this quest Bai ended up successfully taking over, then he had nothing. Fortunately for the multi-billionaire, her transition had not been smooth and he had been alerted to her deception.

Barb doing its job all the same, Rafe turned around and slugged Sam right over the trio of bullet scars that would forever be his reminder of Panama. The icy businessman knew where he was attacking, what he was doing, and just how much it would hurt the other man. If Samuel wasn't such an asset to the cause, it was apparent by the trembling in his fist as he spread his palm over the wound that it would have been much worse.

Luckily for the more capable treasure hunter, the lingering touch was only accompanied by a forced smile. "Samuel, for once you really should learn to mind when I tell you to shut your mouth. When I want something done, it's better for everyone involved if it goes my way sooner rather than later."

Too bad for Rafe that he was dealing with someone that wasn't going to take his captivity with grace. "We'll see."

He may have bailed on Rafe in Scotland, but Drake had been wise enough to keep tabs on more than just the clues that would lead to the spoils of what they had then believed to be limited to the Gunsway heist. Bai may not be the immediate choice to replace the Adler in charge, however, the last couple of years she had been a common sight at the helm, steering the business through choppy waters to a profit. For those that she couldn't convince herself (one way or another), if it was true and she really had such powerful backers, it would only be a matter of time before she stole the company out from under him. At this point, Rafe now had more than glory on the line - he had everything that made him at stake.

Ribbed by the remark, Rafe inclined his head with a tilt, "Will we?" Busy as he had been in the field, the lesser of the explorers hadn't only been digging up old earth and examining rubble - he'd been running an empire as well. Bai may have thought she had outmaneuvered him, and perhaps she had by keeping it hidden that her father had been a respected figure within a certain organization, yet he wasn't all that worried. "I don't know if that stupid slattern was dumb enough to bet on you beating me to the punch, or if she was trying to capitalize on my absence, but this isn't a fight she's going to win."

Laughing at the man opposite him - a man very much on the verge of losing it - Sam couldn't have asked for a better opening than what he had just been given. Attitude causing some of the less certain remainder of the army to question if there was anyone sane left in the managing ranks, the brunette reached out to the king of ice and enthusiastically patted the shorter man's chest. "Wow. Now that's funny that you would use those exact words."

Unnaturally quiet during the pissing contest, Nadine was once more nearing the end of her rope. Beyond being done with the ex-con, if she never had to hear his voice again it would be too soon. Not that her partner was in her good graces himself. "Enough! Rafe, let's get on with this already."

"Just a minute, Nadine. I want to hear what Samuel finds so funny." Thinking back on what he had said that could possibly set this off, he waved his partner down for maybe the millionth time. His own patience was running thin, but he needed to hear what Sam thought he was planning this time. If he tried to run again, Rafe wouldn't hesitate to incapacitate the ex-con and leave him to one of the soldiers to carry.

Feigning that he was hurt for Shoreline's unfriendly leader, he peeked over Rafe's shoulder at her, "You know, I don't know about you, but I think it's kind of sad that the other woman has to listen to me go on about baby mama." That touched a nerve, he could tell by the way Rafe had scowled, but somehow Nadine had kept her composure. Surmising that no one was going to accept his offer to depart, Drake shrugged, "Well, I tried to keep this between us. Like several other things."

Ever the predictable short fuse, Nadine pulled Sam away from Rafe to deck him in the side of the ribs. "Get on with it!"

Right hand flinging up to block the sight of his mouth from the majority of the circled army, he deadpanned out of the corner of his mouth, "If at any point in these last two years you feel an itch that lasts longer than an hour at a time, you may want to call a doctor."

Nadine hit him again, harder, faster, and just a little bit higher. It would have been wiser to knock the wind out of him, but then Rafe would have to wait to hear the punchline. "You're getting on my nerves! Tell Rafe what he wants to know so we can get a move on!"

"Right, I forgot that the treasure's going to get up and walk away after three hundred years." Receiving another blow for the snarky comment, the thief was bent double when he turned back to face an impassive Rafe. Rafe was never as collected as folks took him to be, so Sam knew that there was something brewing below the surface. "Alright, alright, I'll spit it out before you make me spit out a vital organ. I find it funny that Rafe would question if Bai was dumb enough to bet on me to beat him to the punch or if she was just waiting for him to be gone."

Straightening himself to face the next part like a man, Sam was almost having enough fun to forget the raw ache in his shoulder where the bullet had grazed him. Almost. "Usually she would wait up for him to be gone, just so I could beat him to the punch."

Immediately understanding what Samuel was getting at, Rafe had dug his thumb into the fresh wound until it oozed.


	6. Rotten Apples

**\- Chapter Five -**

 **Rotten Apples**

Not worth anyone's attention when they had gathered together in the living room, that all changed when the screen lit up like a bonfire on a cold summer night. Font bold and flashing a lemony gold on top of the standard fire engine red to be purposefully eye-catching, the words 'breaking news' suddenly appeared on the screen and nabbed everyone's attention. Frankly the thief was more invested in the story being laid out and what that meant for his wallet, yet the woman noticing what was being televised interrupted that goal, leaving him with little other choice than to look over. That was something that he and the heiress had in common, but the surfer only seemed to care because of all the bright colors being thrown out.

Obliging the means of his livelihood, the grizzled brunette lifted his gaze from the almost grown woman nuzzling up to her mother to check out what was so engrossing as to pause the narrative. Smoldering in an onyx haze, the building being covered initially appeared to be a picturesque library or a pristine campus. Could have been some kind of other government establishment in some patriotic corner of the United States with how nicely the bricks were tanned and mortared. Fenced off with heavy iron bars and shaded by twin elm, the plaque over the archway was bronze and gold.

Ah.

Engulfed by the hungry flames of a homemade blowtorch and the rest blasted away by an explosive with a sizable blast radius (the most likely offenders being Shoreline's excavation tool of choice or the favored security measure of paranoid pirates), there was next to nothing left. Though she had probably never even seen of list of all the things her paternal linage had donated through the years, just seeing the melted moniker among the destruction couldn't have been easy after waking up with the fear of thinking that the family name was as dead as her forebears. Despite the momentary break in her bad luck, Drake couldn't help but feel bad for how much this was visibly twisting the poor kid.

"That building..." Daniella pulled away from her mother as much as the older woman would allow, her index finger shaking when she pointed it at the screen. Effort to speak still very real for the teen, there just wasn't enough steam to clarify how she recognized the rubble.

In truth, the heiress had a long history of visiting that exact site. Leftmost elm being closer to the staff building where her step-father had worked, both the girl and the first tree she had ever climbed bore the scars of a broken limb. So what if she had disobeyed the rules of remaining in the courtyard at all times? Her mother's husband had been to blame when he frightened her so badly that she lost her footing. Years later during a meteor shower, when she had showed off the spot she had taken the tumble, Daniella had gotten her first kiss underneath the emerald canopy. Not all pleasant experiences, the teen had been locked in the storage closet on numerous occasions, smashed her finger to the point of needing a splint when a door closed on it, and gotten so drunk that she had misplaced her chucks. She really loved those shoes too.

Gathering that this blip was of importance from the attentive way that the bespectacled woman fixated on the screen, Sam picked up the remote to turn up the volume. If he had to endure spending this time dancing in the woman's palm, he may as well educate himself on as many "facts" as he could.

"-devastating blow. While the Adler family had donated generously since its foundation, it was Rafe Adler that first opened the doors to the general public in celebration of the birth of his daughter. In a statement issued shortly before he tragically met his death traveling through Madagascar, the new father laid out his wish that the girl follow his example to strive for excellence."

Just like Mama always said. Glad to hear as much coming from someone else, the teen cracked a small smile - she idolized the image she had built of her father, and to be told that she was doing his memory honor meant the world. Add in the timing of her darkest day, and it lifted her spirit considerably.

On the take and spinning the truth to suit the pro-Adler agenda, the salt-and-pepper journalist added more than three of the four viewers were comfortable with. For the ex-con, the barrage of paparazzi snaps and additional information just made the target on his client's back that much bigger, but for the women it was much more personal.

"Now nearing her eighteenth birthday little Daniella has yet make her own mark on the world, however our investigators reveal that she is indeed following in her father's footsteps by volunteering within the community. Last seen twenty-four hours ago at this very spot, when asked by members of our team, three of the bombing survivors reported that Daniella failed to report in for the day. Though it was no doubt initially shocking to her peers and superiors, this latest development comes on the heels of a break-in at the home of prestigious international businesswoman Bai Wen. Wen - who is also the mother of Daniella Adler - was formerly employed by the Adler family prior to taking over after the tragic death of her boss and lover-"

Eyes narrowing at the screen as if her stare could go through the glass and kill the reporter on the other side, it was clear that Bai had not approved of this report. "I earned my position, thank you."

Interruption meaning nothing to the live broadcast, the story resumed, "Transition to power less than smooth, the fearsome black widow's name once more became recognizable to the everyman when she recently married again, this time to a notorious shipping mogul purported to-" And mute.

Through his travels and various other dealings, Drake had heard in passing who Bai had moved on with, but the doe-eyed youth listening in didn't need to hear what her late step-father was. That is if she didn't know already, which from the look of naive innocence radiating from her, the brunette would guess that she was in the dark about a lot of things. All the same, silencing the audio did nothing to keep the girl from seeing a leaked color photograph of the family leaving the funeral.

Irrelevant as it was to the situation at hand, Sam was amazed to see that beneath the aftermath of what was surely a harrowing escape, Bai hadn't really changed all that much. Physically speaking, time had etched deeper lines into the corners of her eyes and the stress of work had caused shoots of silver through her hair, but her features remained as stern as ever. Glasses the same frame type as they had been twenty years ago, the ebony suit in the picture was sharp and opened just enough to remind everyone that she was a woman. A gold band hung from a fine chain of leaf-like links around her neck, and a netted veil framed her low cheeks, but there were no other accessories visible. Personality-wise, she wasn't showing much of an improvement.

Case in point, the woman still was not above attacking the ex-con for anything she possibly could. "To be fair, I suppose that there are those that would make the argument that there different ways to earn your keep. But you'd know all about that, yes?" Sapphires dancing over to where the clueless surfer sat in awe of the discovery that the teen was from old money, Bai really sunk her teeth in the poison apple. "Tell me true, it crossed your mind to take advantage of the situation, didn't it?" Kissing the side of her daughter's head once more, she cooed to Daniella without really taking her eyes off the brunette. "You're such a pretty little thing, so much like your father."

Unable to readily recall the last time he spoken to Bai, the cord she just struck confirmed that his memory failed for good reason. At the core of it, it had been a mutual decision made of equal parts cowardice and having nothing to say to one another. Personal relationship aside - if the short-lived icy fire of yesteryear could be called such - he was just as much to blame for the demise of her daughter's father as anyone. More so even, considering the fact that of all the people directly (or indirectly) involved in the hunt for Avery's treasure, Bai had known Sam the best. Shouldering his fair share of guilt, in his worst moments he would tell himself that there was also Nadine's involvement to account for, however the explorer had no problem imagining that the one-time leader of Shoreline had paid her respects and owned her share of the responsibility.

Old adage about hindsight a kick in the boys, she might have been the only one among them with even a shred of decency. Not that he would ever admit that he found Nadine to be admirable in that light.

Back when it should have been time to say that he was sorry to the little girl for having to grow up without her father, there was a reason why it had slipped his mind to mention to his little brother that Rafe had left behind a family. Nathan would have been on him about making amends to a freaking baby - which Sam agreed that he owed her that much - yet he couldn't find it in himself to feel remorse. Rafe was a monster therefore she was so much better off for not knowing him, and on the other side of that coin was the argument of self-preservation. If he hadn't thrown his brother that broken sword, neither of them would be here today. Given how far he had fallen at the climax, there wasn't even a guarantee that Rafe would have survived the ship going under and the mountain face collapsing on his own.

"Mama!" Barely able to take a compliment as it was, after hearing about herself on the news the teen was quickly growing less comfortable with all the attention she was getting. Whatever pride she felt at the notion of living up to her father's life had instantly been vaporized.

Pinching Daniella's jaw with a jade manicure filed to lethal points, the bespectacled woman shook the girl's head with a sigh, "You do lack his energy though. The man knew that he was a catch, but it takes so much work to show you that there's something worthwhile in your reflection. I suppose it was inevitable that I would make a mistake somewhere with you."

Wounded by the remark, the heiress may have made her mouth quirk up in accordance with her mother's molding, but Sam could see in her eyes that she was anything but happy. "I know," still sounding like gravel being run through a blender, it was worth asking if she would always sound this way from now on. At that observation, the question became what had she even sounded like in the first place? "I need to work on that."

"So, correct me if I'm wrong here, but wasn't there a reason you sent your kid here?" Defending the girl without really defending her, the protective elder brother once more saw the teen as a proxy for Nathan. Sorry a substitute as she would have been, it was difficult to not make the connection. "Or did you set this whole thing up just so you could roast two birds with one stone?"

Civilian piecing together the identity of who the two women were and what they were probably doing there, Logan came back to the whole cradle-robbing thing. "Okay, so I get that the bae from the funeral sent the daughter of the dead rich dude ahead, but why? And what gives with the timeframe? I'm pretty sure that the daughter of the dead rich dude can't talk right now cause she spent all night crying, thinking that she had just lost her mom too. I know that if anything were to happen to my mom, I'd be a wreck. I definitely wouldn't think twice about banging the first person I saw." Shaking his head, he rotated the ring on his finger and thought a quick apology to his absent wife.

Both Sam and Daniella were quick to deny that anything of that nature had transpired through the night, the girl using the shield of her pedigree to hide behind while he had just refuted the act. His moral compass may not have pointed true north, but it wasn't _that_ broken. Alas, all it took to convince the blood-thirsty shrew that something untoward had occurred was to take a good, hard look at her little girl.

Already against the man from the get, she just had to take this opportunity to really see her daughter for the first time since arriving. So far as she was concerned, the young woman wearing one of the man's shirts with little else was all the proof she required to issue the guilty sentence. Ignoring how distraught the girl must be, that it had been raining for days, that there been precious little time to prepare, all she could think about was how disappointed she was in Daniella. The one from Panama had a certain charm about him, there was no denying that, but to cave so easily...

"So that's how it is. I never expected much from _you_ ," leering at the ex-con, the businesswoman wasn't quite certain when she had let go of her daughter, only that they might as well have been on opposite ends of the room from one another, "but _you_ I had high hopes for. I suppose you really are your father's daughter after all." She always knew that the one from Panama was no good, yet Sam wasn't the only one she was condemning.

Apparently a talented actress on the side, Bai appeared on the surface to recover from the upset as she turned her attention to Logan. Each seated on either side of the heiress, he was still close enough to shudder at the woman's blistering cold shoulder. Gulping deep from the back of his throat - harder even than when Sam had come in with the shotgun - the blonde was terrified of what she was going to say to him. As he had been the one to bring it to her attention that her little girl probably was less than pure, it probably wasn't going to be pretty.

Quieter than before to keep the black fury coursing through her veins at bay, the bespectacled woman inclined her head at the unexpected addition to the party. "Fortunately for you both, we've wasted enough time. I suggest that we get a move on to your safe house before someone else finds us - if the likes of your little surfer can find you here, anyone can track us. Really how they haven't already taken the girl and left you to die is beyond me."

 _The girl_. Not my little girl, just the girl.

Unable to fully grasp how devastating it was to think for even a moment that her mother was dead and gone, her mom making it clear how little she thought of her daughter now was a whole different kind of pain. Under no circumstances was Daniella the type that could do such a thing; not entirely on her own merits, she was just too awkward and inexperienced to seize the opportunity. Not to mention that this was a stranger she was being accused of doing something with! Go figure that the one time anything had even come close to happening, no one was any wiser, but when nothing even remotely sexual happened, it was being treated like she was some tart!

Virtue still very much in tact (right?), Daniella had dealt with her mother long enough to know that the woman wasn't going to let this go. Regardless of the actual events, she had made up her mind and settled on the worst-case scenario. However that didn't mean that the girl was going to just accept the lies, "I'm still-"

Withering the rest of the defense with a single look, Bai didn't want to hear it. She never did. Wondering in some distant corner of her mind how her father would have handled this situation and the false accusations being hurled about, the teen fell silent. What mattered was that she knew the truth, Mr. Drake knew the truth, her ancestors all saw what really happened, so why fight? Her mother was already critical enough, and who knew, this might even make her lower the bar... Doubtful, but the heiress could dream.

Not to sound insensitive, but if the harpy was right and there was someone after her daughter, the more time they wasted only increased the risk of their location being discovered. He also knew that if they remained on the topic much longer, it wouldn't be long before the mother lioness went for the jugular with extreme prejudice. Asphyxiation (and that other kind of kinky stuff the woman was into) not his cup of tea, personally the man was deeply opposed to blacking out at anyone's hands.

"Okay, who exactly wants the kid dead and why?" Sitting back in the chair, when he tapped his fingers against the armrest, the aging adventurer noticed that his hands were shaking ever so slightly. The heiress was alright so far as he could tell, but if he had to spend much more time with her mother, it wouldn't be long before he snapped and threw away months of hard work.

Making no attempt to pretend that her daughter was her favorite person in that moment, the businesswoman focused instead on buffing the dirt and gore off of her cloudy claws. Rubbing the surface with hands singed by gunpowder, she refused to look up from her task. "I recommend that you start preparing to move while I talk. But by all means, don't let me tell you how to do your job."

Openly mocking her, Sam immediately stood up at the invitation and began to move about the hotel room. Keeping his ears perked as he packed, the adventurer was actually glad that he didn't have to feel obligated to face a harpy that had as little interest in meeting his eye at any point during the debriefing. Grabbing the emergency pack he kept in the closet, the pickpocket began by restocking the empty medical supplies with what was in the restroom. If he had to babysit the klutz, they would obviously need all the bandages.

"Shortly after Daniella had been born, her father and I had came to a certain understanding. He agreed that as his legacy, she would be entitled to her inheritance at the age of eighteen." Rafe and Bai had taken ages to hammer out all of the thorny details, and the thief recalled Knot being left with the new born so often during that period that several of the men joked that the girl would probably end up calling him daddy instead of her actual father. "One of the conditions were that I would forfeit all rights as her mother if I were to ever go against him. I broke that promise just before he died."

Whoa, whoa, whoa. No, no, no. Literally on the edge of his seat to fight for it if need be, Drake was promised good money and was going to collect. Even if he hadn't done little enough at this point to earn it. About to raise the issue of his fee, the woman cut him off in favor of answering to her daughter. Oh, bfd, so what if the kid had been lied to her entire life about being rich, she still had years ahead of her for therapy! He, however, no longer had that kind of time ahead of him.

Briefly granting the one from Panama a leer as he poked his head out from scavenging for antiseptic in the kitchenette, Bai sneered, "Oh relax, won't you? The money is still as good as yours." Despite the blow her daughter's reputation had taken in her eyes, the woman softened when she spoke of her offspring. "When I sacrificed the rights to my daughter, I guaranteed that she would get what was owed her. Besides, Rafe dying renders it all moot anyways. It got my baby back, and she has everything I fought for."

Daniella couldn't care less about the money. Yes, it had afforded her so much more than most ever got to know in their lives, so for that she was grateful, but it cost her everything she truly wanted in the deepest chamber of her heart of hearts.

"You gave me up?" Somehow that revelation hurt less than it should have, because being set off to the side for the business was just par for the course. What shook was hearing the words so directly, learning that everything before now could have all been the fabrication of a skilled liar. "Why would you even have to go against Baba in the first place?! Was it because Grandfather wasn't happy about you falling in love with an American?" It dawned on the girl that even that could have been a falsehood. "...Did you ever love him, or was I just a mistake?" The tears threatening to well on the corners of her eyes looked fatter than before, but that might have been because they might have been the last tears the girl would shed.

Fair a question as it was under the circumstances, it stung Bai that it was something she would ever have to answer.

Glass making its presence known to the teen only after she had lunged to her feet to distance herself from her mother, the girl winced in physical agony and pivoted on tip-toe to face her host. He was a completely unknown entity to her, yet he felt like the only one she could trust any more. Her existence must have been sorry indeed if she had to resort to finding trust in a complete stranger.

Doing what she learned to do best, Daniella hid her true sadness behind an empathetic mask of stone and swallowed back the tears as best she could. "Where's the bathroom?" It was hardly a mystery that she needed space from her mother, so he pointed to the room next to the bedroom. After spending three hours comforting the heiress when her wails were at their absolute worst, the long-time bachelor was astonished that the teen had the capacity to not sob uncontrollably at the slightest upset.

Perhaps he really did owe her an apology...

Worthy of a highly sought-after award, the bespectacled woman did a marvelous job of mimicking human emotion. Head rotating in the same direction of the retreating teen, it was clear from her actions that she longed to do something about the shards embedded in her daughter's flesh, yet she knew she was powerless. The one time she could liken her daughter to herself, Bai was all too aware of how poorly any effort at that time would be received. Maybe if it were the one from Panama to approach her, the girl would would be amenable to listening to reason, but something told the businesswoman that she was being viewed as the bad guy by both parties. She would have to make a note to shed a tear later.

Stomping like an rampaging elephant to where she had been directed - bloody little smears left along the way - Logan stood up and followed after her. Though she was keeping the door thrown open as wide as it could go, someone had to keep an eye on the girl. Maybe she wasn't the sort, however the blood on the sleeve made it a challenge to overlook the possibility that something more regrettable than getting caught hooking up with an older man with a dubious-at-best past could end up happening. All things considered, the dead dude's daughter probably would much rather it be Sam who checked up on her, but he obviously needed to talk to the bae with the glasses. Nah, the way the surfer saw it, there was no other alternative. Plus he felt responsible for making her break the bowl in the first place, so this was a start in repaying that.

Doubtful that the pretty blonde thing would be of much use in comforting the heiress, the woman squinted at his back disparagingly. Strong, tan, and smelling of coconuts and the salty brine, the one from Panama's vanity affair looked as if he were only good for relieving tension to be perfectly frank. "Your little cabana boy better know what he's doing."

Daniella was too gentle a soul for the world she had been born into, and as her mother it was her job to be the pillar of soothing strength and talk to her daughter. _What could some fling say to the child that I couldn't?_ Nothing, had time been on her side. Wasting hours cleaning up the mess that had had been made, as well as finding some impossible pocket to launch her own counterattack, the woman still had too much left to attend to to simply talk to her daughter herself.

Half-tempted to throw out that Logan might have been his son just to shut her up with that, now was not the time to give solidity to wild theories. Instead the graying brunette shrugged it off and resumed his search for supplies that might be useful on this mystery venture. After everything, this had better be worth it. "Well on the bright side, if she has to get her feet amputated it will be a lot harder for her to run away from you the next time you just drop a bomb like that."

No more enamored by his sense of humor than she had been all those long years ago in Scotland, Bai paused cleaning off her nails long enough to scoff. "Funny. And to think that I almost forgot what the real mistake I made all those years ago was."

God if they were alone at that moment...

Speaking up so that she would be heard across the entryway, Bai resumed her narrative. "Daniella's father and I had a very tumultuous relationship to say the least, but I believe that we sincerely wanted what was best for our little girl. Unfortunately, we both came to the conclusion that the other was not fit to raise her, so the gloves came off. I won't lie, he had every advantage over me, so I had no other choice but to play dirty." Shocking, for such a paragon.

Unwilling to let her little girl hear the full extent of it all, the woman kept it as simple as she could. "I ended up indebted to a lot of bad people, but not before earning more enemies than a woman alone could handle. From the day that Rafe had put his trust into me, it was assumed that I got the position in all the wrong ways." To anyone but her child, she would openly admit that there had been mistakes made along the way, but everything she had was earned. "Getting pregnant with Daniella did nothing to help my image. In fact, at that point I was so popular that the theory began to float around that she wasn't even really his daughter, just a pawn in my game."

Mood too foul to waste any more diamonds, the teen grunted through her teeth as Logan gingerly held her pedicured nails to the honey-colored lights for a better understanding of the extent of the damage. First glimpse not too damning, the blonde flashed a comforting smile as he ran a wad of toilet paper under the warm tap. Intent to clean away the blood and remove some of the larger ecru pieces, he was half expecting the girl to screech across the unit at the bae in the glasses. Chancing a glance into her baleful baby blues as he paused between careful strokes, he got the impression that the teen wanted to hurt her mother by spitefully adding that she didn't blame anyone for doubting that she was the daughter of the dead rich dude. Something held the girl back, but for the life of him he couldn't guess what.

Better not start getting the idea that he was her dad... Sam currently had more than enough of that going on at the moment. "But she is."

Now that was a line of inquiry that she refused to dignify with an answer. "My father was less than thrilled by the choices I had made in my life, but even then he had to acknowledge that he was getting on in years. I was all he had. So he agreed to help me take over the enterprise I had dedicated my adult life to, on one condition."

From the acid in her voice, it was clear that even now she had resented the deal. "I would be a good daughter and do what is expected of every daughter: to bring her family honor and to continue the line of succession. I obeyed my father and married the man of his choosing, however the union failed to produce a true-blooded son or daughter." Throat constricting at the mention of the fruitless union, Sam had the impression that it hadn't ended well for the man, or the mother lioness. "After years of not getting the results he wanted and two weddings, my father demanded that I give him another bride in my place."

Daniella may have been of mixed heritage and unworthy of formal recognition, but Wen Zhihao deemed her dowry more than sufficient enough to admit that the girl carried enough blood of the middle kingdom to wed an acceptable suitor. More than likely, he had already selected either one of his most trusted advisers or else an immediate family member of theirs. For the girl's sake, if all went wrong and Sam Drake failed, Bai prayed that the intended groom be closer in age to her daughter than the men that her father had hand-picked for his own daughter.

Tickled by the motion on the bottom of her instep and horrified at what she thought her mother was getting at, the teen kicked Logan by accident. Nailed on the inner thigh, the surfer dropped to his knees with a sharp cry; thankfully for him, he had been spared from a real tragedy, however the jerky reflex still hurt like hell. Must've been karma striking in spades. Hitting so close to home, Sam couldn't condone selling off family to save one's own ass, so he was prepared to kick the woman back out on the streets if there wasn't a 'but' coming.

Legitimately human this time, there was a shine in Bai's sapphire eyes that couldn't be faked. "That was my reaction too. No one is going to take Daniella from me, no one." Bordering on the possessive, there was an edge to her tone that none of them liked, although they had their own reasons. Orbs roving between the one from Panama and her baby, the woman shook her head and almost whispered, as if to herself. "If anyone could have, it would have been Rafe. But we all know how that turned out for him."

Purging the foolish part of herself that was still unable to get over her daughter's father, the woman didn't need a mirror to know that her heart was written plain across her face. Sam had some inkling of what Rafe had meant to her, he didn't need to know that she still carried a torch for the other man. It wouldn't have mattered anything, she just knew that he wouldn't leave it be. Daniella didn't even have the faintest idea of what her father had done to her, of the lasting impression he had made, and she didn't need to. The girl idolized Rafe, and as irksome as that became at times, it was better to keep it that way.

Once more growing scared of the thought of what was facing her daughter, Bai ceased her futile attempts at bringing the spring gleam back to her nails.

Hard because the world demanded it and distant to protect herself from reliving old wounds, asking for help was not something the woman had made a habit of. When detoxing on the eve of sobriety she had gone to Rafe, and his answer had been to lock her in the second bedroom of his apartment for two months. To keep his personal assistant from starving to death, he had plates of salad and bowls of water waiting for her consumption twice a week. Twice a week. When he finally let her out, he tested her right out of the gates with a line out and waiting. Naturally she had failed, and after waking up the next morning to find herself alone, it was to have to repeat the entire process again.

Sober due to the multi-billionaire's tough love, she thanked him every morning that she lived to see another day. And she made it a personal policy to never again turn to him for anything. Maybe that had been his point the whole time, she didn't want to know - it was bad enough learning that he had used their time apart to court some fighter pilot. They'd agreed that there would be no labels, that what was was, but to come face-to-face with the arrangement so soon after getting clean was yet another harsh lesson in trust.

 _Always trust that you will be hurt._

"What I have to ask of you is to keep her safe." Prepared to get on the floor and beg if she absolutely had to, the refined businesswoman and mother collided into the same being and twisted around in her seat to look Sam straight in the eye. "I implore you from the bottom of my heart, keep my daughter safe."


	7. The Kids Will Soon Be Skeletons

**\- Chapter Six -**

 **At This Rate The Kids Will Soon Be Skeletons**

Wood whispering with a whistle and a woosh, the door closed softly at her back. Fingers lingering on the portal partly because she wanted to be stopped, the girl rested her head against the surface and took a protracted moment to reflect that she had no plan.

Despite being full of misgivings about her escape, Daniella felt like she had been given no other choice. It was either flee in shame or stay and listen to her mother admit that she had agreed to marry her off for the sake of keeping a tentative hold over a beast that would chew her up whole and spit out the bones without remorse at the first opportunity. Mama had made it clear what her real priority was at every chance, so why would this be any different?

Only partially feeling bad about capitalizing on Logan's little mishap, the teen winced at every step as she hobbled down the hallway. It was only a matter of time before they realized that she was gone, and her footprints were a dead give away. Still, the hardening hand holding her heart - each passing moment a second thought that tightened the grip - dictated that she had to try. If she succumbed meekly to the destiny written by man, she may as well have been the little china doll her mother wanted her to be.

Blood a curse, the heiress paused to wipe her heel with the stained sleeve. Balancing against the wall with the other hand, a few more shards came loose on the carpet, yet what remained was there to stay without really picking at the pieces. Making up her mind in that moment that she really didn't care all that much for the surfer anymore, her thoughts shifted over to the stranger.

Whatever his reasons may have been, he'd shown her a good deal of kindness (you know, when they weren't fighting each other to get food in her system). Vanishing like the ghost she so often felt like, the heiress knew that this was a horrid way to repay him. But wasn't it justified? Give it time, and Sam - Mr. Drake - would also prove to be just like everyone else in the world, keeping her close only so that he could use her. She aught to have been used to that by now, however it was difficult to differentiate an act of decency and an act self-interest when they were used in conjunction.

Daniella was so sick and tired of everyone just treating her like a name.

Garbed in scarcely more than a lengthy blood-stained shirt, hair tangled and matted on the side with grime, she must have looked a real sight as she gimped along the corridor. Counting a family that gave her a wide berth as they carried their sleepy children to bed, there were few enough strolling the halls, but that was only one floor. Wistfully wishing that she knew what it was like, the teen worked on a cover to hide the truth that she was just another teenage runaway. _A runway with first-world problems._ The heiress sounded like an ungrateful bitch when she thought about it in those terms, but her mother had put her through too much these last twenty-four hours to morn that fact. Perhaps later, but for now she just had to get away.

Corner coming on faster than she realized, as the teen turned the corner she bumped into an elder gentleman wearing a ghastly Hawaiian-print shirt. Arms laden with a tray from the local coffee shop, one of the four cups rocked in the cradle at the disturbance. The man had a much firmer grip than what a person of his age should, but she was more grateful that she didn't end up getting scalded by the contents of the steaming consumer mug. So what if it was the most important meal of the day? Breakfast was almost certainly out to get her.

"I'm so sorry!" Apologizing before remembering that every second counted, the young woman took a step back into the middle of the empty intersection.

Aware from the way that she was holding her legs that the girl was prepared to bolt, that the top she was wearing was covered in dried blood and some kind of soil, he cocked his head to the side. Mustache twitching as he searched for other clues about if she was a danger to his person or not, the man decided from the indecisive look in her eyes that she was not. "You look a little young to be one of Sam's." Adding two and two, it wasn't much of a challenge to guess where she was coming from.

Oh!

"One of...? No!" Shaking her head from side-to-side and dusting the floor in some of the dirt that had transfered to her person, Daniella wondered what the odds were of her running into someone that was heading right for where she had just left. Probably the same kind of movie-level coincidences that made grown men want to tear their hair out. "I was just stretching my legs..." The brilliant lie she had concocted no longer seemed very genius, especially if he knew Mr. Drake. "My mom's with him right now." Ok, the truth was something she could handle.

Smart in any age, the older man questioned her story, though it sounded that he was half buying it. "That still doesn't explain why you're in one of his shirts. Sam is a lot of things, but a gentleman is not one of them."

Feathers ruffled ever so slightly about what she deemed to be an overly harsh judgment, Mr. Drake didn't seem so bad to her. Although to be fair, it was impossible to know anyone in such a short time span, never mind that they hadn't exactly had much time to talk. All the same, she didn't think that was a very fair description.

Honesty finally winning the day, the teen frowned at the old man, "I was kinda klutzy and spilled food all over my top. Mr. Drake was nice enough to let me wear this so I didn't have to just run around in my underthings." Recounting what had happened through a filter, the teen was touched once more by a stranger doing the right thing. "Like I said, I was just getting some air. If you'll excuse me." Conversation getting too dangerous for her liking, the girl ran off before the old man could say anything else.

Unless he was much mistaken, that girl was barefoot when she darted away.

Could she really was just getting air like she said, and maybe there was an honest reason why Sam had lent her a shirt to wear, but there was something fishy about her... Girls her age (and older) were fond of wearing belts and calling them skirts, so there could have been more going on underneath the thermal top than there seemed. Somehow though, something about the young woman was resonating more than what she was (or wasn't) wearing. All sorts did business with the elder Drake, yet not very many of them had the kind of bearing and manners that the girl did. Perhaps she was looking for someone or was in some kind of trouble, he'd find out soon enough.

Knocking on the door with a lack of ease due to holding the tray of mocha-frappé-whatevers, the elder gentleman glanced back over his shoulder as he waited. It was true that Sam had his own clientèle, yet there was something about that girl that continued to trouble him, a nagging feeling that he had seen her face before. But who did she remind him of?

No answer. Finding that to be suspicious under the circumstances, he did away with common courtesies and opened the door with the spare key he had made some while back. Heedlessly opening the door was never wise - especially when dealing with a kid that was nine-tenths a walking hormone - yet the old man was too rattled by the odd conditions to care about that. They could blush like maidens on their wedding day after he knew that everything was fine.

"Victor?" In the middle of shaking out a box of bullets to get a rough estimate on how many were left, Sam looked curiously over at his partner from the towel closet. Making too much of a ruckus in the search for ammunition, it was the smell of coffee that had alerted the thief to the arrival of his partner.

Woman perched on the edge of the couch, apparently in the middle of a speech, the girl's story checked out. The surfer-looking bum that came out of the bathroom was a little on the peculiar side, especially when the nearest ocean was miles away, but not odd enough to bat an eye over. What did merit a double-take was the fact that the blonde bore such a strong resemblance to Sam.

"Thought I'd stop by for a visit. Maybe plan on what to get Cassie for her birthday this year so she doesn't get the same thing twice." The caffeine was to help them think into the night if they couldn't come up with anything, which the older the girl got the more likely that roadblock was to show up. So far they had done decent jobs at knowing what to give her, but it was always on their mind that shopping for a teenage girl was different than it was looking for a gift for Nathan. Even Elena wasn't so hard to pick out presents for, but she was an adult so it was also different.

That year had been a small disaster, however this time around the grown-ups had all agreed to coordinate so they didn't have anything to make up for. Sure the girl had taken it all in stride and had been gracious about it, but to unwrap the same exact gift from your father and your uncle was pretty cringe-inducing for even the best. Elena certainly wasn't happy about it and was in fact spear-heading the campaign to make her daughter's birthday pull off without a hitch. Frankly the guys all shared the hunch that she was taking it so personally due to her own past experience, but none of them were dumb enough to say it out loud.

Friendly as ever, Victor grinned over at the woman before realizing that the pattern on her dark suit was actually the remains of some poor dead bastard. Unfazed by a little grave robbing and/or fight for survival, he mused on the possibility of getting cut in to whatever was going on. "Hello there. Victor Sullivan. And you are?"

"Don't waste your breath on this one, Victor." Waving her off, the ex-con resumed his tally of the shells.

Daggers in her eyes meant solely for Sam, the woman stood and smoothed out her skirt before extending her hand. No longer as prone to falling for charm as she once had been, the bespectacled woman introduced herself warmly enough. "Bai Wen. Yes, I remember your name. You worked with Rafe on the New Zealand job, right?" Perhaps it was Australia, it was tough to keep it straight after thirty-some years. Regardless, he had been good to the business. "From what I remember, you helped make him that much richer."

At the mention of the multi-billionaire, everything he had just been questioning in his mind made sense - the girl, the chances of getting better acquainted with her mother, and why they had come to Sam. Air deflating faster than it took a nail to pop a balloon, Sully peered over at his partner. Surely he realized how dodgy it was to get involved with anyone connected with that lunatic? "Ah. So you knew Rafe?"

Logan chimed in - blissfully unaware that the question was a mere formality - shocking the other two with his sudden appearance. "That's the dead rich dude's baby momma."

"Technically I'd say that we were a bit more than that-"

Speaking of the spawn from the unholy union, he found her absence unnerving. "Shouldn't someone be keeping an eye on that 'baby' right now? After the day she's had I doubt that she's magically fine enough to be left alone all of a sudden. Girl couldn't even manage to feed herself, she was so messed up." Drake wasn't worried that she would intentionally do something stupid, just that something dumb would happen to her on its own accord. Judging from what he knew of the heiress, she had that kind of luck, and he was still interested in taking the job.

Mistake rather major, Logan apologized first to Mother Bae and then to Sam. "About that..." rubbing the image of a coral-colored starfish knitting its leg together on the back of his neck, the surfer sheepishly jerked his head towards the front entrance, "I kinda lost her. She bailed out when she heard that the bae with the glasses wanted to marry her off..."

Eyes blazing with murderous intention, the woman rounded on Sam as if he were at fault. In her mind, the thief had trusted his little cabana boy enough to keep him in the know of his business affairs, and he hadn't objected when the blonde volunteered to entreat Daniella. Enough of a slight on its own, the one from Panama had worked his magic on the impressionable girl and just let her wander off the minute he got distracted. Far from inspiring confidence, Bai was tempted to just call of the entire thing and find someone better to help her.

Alas, the hour was too late to be picky, and she knew it. Nails clacking loudly against the frames of her glasses as she pressed them up her nose, the woman hissed as she made up her mind on her next course of action, "Next time, don't let her get away!"

"Next time I'll put a bell on her." Closing the closet door with a sharp snap, the graying brunette retorted while pointing out one of the biggest holes in the woman's understandable anger. "She got passed you too you know."

Pure scowl, she blew past the old man like a torpedo and was out the front door in the blink of an eye. Prone to being moody and melodramatic like her father, it was only fitting that Daniella would want to get as far away as she possibly could, and under the circumstances who could blame her? Dashing down the corridor like a mad woman, Bai had no clue which way to even start to look. Instead of going left outside the door, she turned right and hoped that if she was wrong, at least the passageways would loop around. Most hotels seemed to do that, so this one should be no different.

Left standing in the middle of the room in confusion, Victor looked to his partner for answers. "What just happened?"

Current task abandoned the minute that he learned that the girl had pulled a fast one and idiotically stumbled out into the open where anyone could screw him out of his money, Samuel didn't have the luxury of expositing the details. Instead the brunette left Logan to catch his partner up to speed as he prepared to hunt down the heiress. "Landon will fill you in. I need to track a girl down. Something tells me if her mother finds her first, she'll only make my job that much more of a pain in the ass."

"It's Logan." The blonde sighed to himself and shook his head, "Not even a hard name, man."

Casting a sideways glance at the blonde even as she shrugged him off, Sullivan set the steaming mugs down on the kitchen counter and took one to the couch. Passing Sam as the elder Drake brother moved to leave the room, he informed his partner of what he thought to be relevant information. "You might want to try heading for the elevators. Pretty sure that that's where your missing shirt was headed when I got here. I have to say, for the daughter of a psychopath, the girl had nice manners."

Sam thanked Victor with a nod.

Lost and hopelessly turned around, somehow Daniella had found herself in a rather nice indoor pool. In hindsight not knowing her way around the hotel was probably for the best, because the lobby would be among the first places they would go to find her. Unintentional though it was, she had to hand it to herself for hiding in plain sight and laying low. Assuming that they ever noticed she was gone (unfortunately this was one of the rare instances she knew that her invisibility would fail her) no one would think to find her here. Since it was empty, she could sit wherever she wanted and deal with the shards in her feet without getting odd/dirty stares.

Forming a neat little pile of the fragments on the armrest, the teen selected a lounge chair near to the edge of the shimmering Caribbean blue water. Drawn to water for a number of reasons, a swim could be a nice little distraction. And if she were wet, just maybe she could fool them into thinking that she was someone else if they were lucky enough to stumble across her hiding place. She wished that she could be someone else, someone who had at least one person in her life that she could say honestly loved her for who she was, not who she was related to.

At this rate it was hard to make herself believe that her father had loved her, but if she didn't have that, what did she have? Once they realized that she wasn't the life of the party and wouldn't just give them whatever they wanted on a dime, no one in school liked her, not really. Poisoned against anyone her age just coming up to her out of the blue without a reason, her homebody ways had failed to make her any friends outside of the classroom. More at ease with older crowds, she got on well enough with her fellow volunteers, yet that never really sparked beyond work hours. Jay was the only person that she could call, however his motives were less than pure. Even her own mother only seemed to tolerate her because she had to...

Forget the swim, maybe she should just jump in and never get out.

"It's fine bro, no one comes in here at night!" Drunk as a skunk and speaking far too loud for an indoor location, a boy roughly Daniella's age pushed the door open with a little too much force and stumbled into the room ahead of two other friends. Judging from how rowdy they sounded and how much they laughed at nothing, she didn't need to be able to smell the collective from across the room to know that they were all smashed. "Well, almost no one."

Another of the boys, easily the youngest from the crack in his voice that had yet to break even, chortled at something and pointed at Daniella. "Looks like we got ourselves a shy one here."

Wondering how they knew that, it dawned on her after a moment that she was wearing a long shirt by herself at the pool. Obviously that was a clear indicator of how insecure she was. If this shirt didn't belong to someone else, she would have burned it for all the woe it was causing. Although if it kept it up, she still might.

The first boy spoke again, hitting the third on the arm with a resounding smack on skin., "See, modesty does still live here! Or maybe she's some old granny in disguise." Coming closer to where the teen sat when there was a whole room they could have enjoyed, it was clear that she was going to be the main attraction. "You a good little girl, or a nasty little gmilf? Can't tell by looking anymore, so you just have ta ask these things."

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, the heiress didn't much care for the way that they were looking at her. She was so unnerved by the boys that she visibly jumped when one of them let out a noise that was a cross between a burp and a hiccup. "I am modest. Too modest for anyone's good, so you shouldn't waste your time." It was probably the wrong thing to say, but she had no clue what she could have done in that situation that wouldn't get their dander up.

"Rude little cow, aren't you?" Forming a noticeable ring as they moved in on her, the third boy opened his mouth for the first time and called her a name disparaging of her race. As if calling her a cow hadn't been insulting enough!

Acting before any of them were close enough to touch her - though the second was by far the closest - Daniella stumbled slightly as she rose from the seat. Rising with a calm dignity that she had never felt in all her life, she gandered almost longingly at the way out. Apparently the leader of the crew, the first boy only saw that she had stumbled so he looked around for a bottle. "You holding out on us? C'mon, we're all friends here. Give us a drink of what you stole from mommy and daddy."

"I don't have anything." Voice still horse, she knew that she wouldn't have sounded intimidating either way. Retreating from the trio before they had her completely cornered, the teen stepped wrong and practically fell into the arms of the third boy. Betrayed by her own ankles, shoving away from him her heart stopped in her chest when she realized that the second boy was at her back. "Just leave me be, please!"

Breath warm as the first lick of flame from an ember and rank on her ear, the second wrapped his arms around her and came just short of second base. "Now now, don't lie to us. We'll find it," sliding across her waistline like eels, the placement of his palms was a mistake he meant to rectify. "wherever you're hiding it." Nostrils flaring as he breathed in the hair that was plastered to the back of her neck by nervous sweat, she flinched when something clammy and wet brushed the side of her throat.

Pulse thundering in her ears, the girl lost whatever seams had been left before he could make good on his threat. Drawing from years of self-defense classes and sheer panic, the heiress trod on his instep, pulled her elbow back into his gut when he released her to cry out in pain, and kneed the third boy before he could retaliate for his friend. She had no clue where she had hit him, only that the direct attack had caused enough damage to drop him to his knees.

"I told you to just let me be!"

Daniella realized that she had made a mistake thinking that her display would be enough to freak the boys out enough to back off when the leader mumbled something about "the little whore knowing kung-fu". Instead of reconsider what they were getting into, he swung his arm wildly and knocked her directly in the side of the face. Not only missing that they were getting dangerously close to the pool, somehow she had also missed the bottle they'd been holding when they first came in. There was no mistaking the brown paper bag shattering when it collided with the side of her head, the wetness to trickle down the side of her face, the little stars that began to pop before her eyes with a dazzling golden glow.

 _Soon._

Dazed by the blow and pretty much done for, the first boy truly committed to his brothers and went the full mile for them as they watched from the ground. Pushing the heiress without having any notion of who she was or what harming her would mean, she felt herself falling backwards, but her arms had no command from the brain, so there was no fight as gravity took over. It was almost like tripping, but it was also so different...

 _Soon._

Water and blackness swirling before she even realized that she was wet, the girl dropped into the pool, her worries thousands of little stones on her chest.


	8. Smoke Will Kill You

**\- Chapter Seven -**

 **Smoke Will Kill You**

"You sure you want that guy around your kid?"

Rubbing his hands together to keep the blood flowing, the brunette made it no secret that he was staring at the marks on the woman's slender neck. Culturally and climatically appropriate as they were, Bai could wear all the cheongsams and turtlenecks in the world and it still wouldn't be enough to hide the truth. Only the dimmest of the dimmest of the Shoreline goons would fall for the ruse that the barely visible bruises were just overzealous lovebites, but he knew better. Okay, so maybe he hadn't been there first hand to witness what they did to one another, but he'd seen more than enough evidence to connect the dots.

With the two being who they were, he wanted to write it off and just say that whatever they got up to in their spare time was their own business. From how the newly released con understood it, by that point in time the two underworld associates had known each other since before the multi-billionaire could drink legally, so to say that they knew the other's worst possible sides was an understatement. Simply put, Rafe should have known better than to touch dry ice, and by all rights she should have known the consequences of playing with fire.

Exhaling a cloud of smoke into the crisp air, there was a lot on his mind at that particular moment. Avery's treasure, why they hadn't turned up a damn thing when he was right about Scotland, his little brother. Those were almost all he ever thought about, but being so close to the businessman, it was a insurmountable task to keep his mind on his own life at all times. For one thing the other man just made it a challenge, and for another Rafe's little girl was almost always around. As such it should have been shocking to no one that having a child on a dig site was high on the list of things he'd wanted to point out as not being the wisest decision in the world. Whatever, it was only their own kid they were putting at risk.

Plum silk already in order, the dark haired woman smoothed out the embroidered hem and acted as if she had no clue that he was ogling the uncovered bit of her throat. Pretending was something she did often, yet there was no escaping the blemish that was regrettably too high for any collar to hide. Ordinarily they had been able to hide away their secrets, but that was the difference between agreeing to being dominated and being genuinely threatened with violence. Often times the line had been so thin as to disappear entirely - it was part of the attraction to loving such a volatile man - but when his hands clasped her throat, there had been nothing sexual about it.

 _"You brought this on yourself."_ The baby crying from the lavender bassinet had made him look over just as she began to lose her fight, but instead of letting go he only held on tighter. This was FOR the little girl. The dark gleam in his eyes made it obvious that he would have done it, gone all the way, yet he stopped short of murdering the mother of his daughter. Maybe it was because Daniella started to wail louder than before, maybe it was because he reconsidered being a single parent. Whatever was behind it, he stood up from kneeling over the woman, straighted his smoldering grey button down, and turned away. "Deal with her."

"Rafe is... Rafe." Tail between her legs days after the fact, it was obvious that she wasn't half as concerned with having to leave her daughter behind as she had been a week ago. It wasn't confidence in her position but the fear of inflaming the repercussions. Aloof as she tried to make herself sound, the look in her cobalt eyes betrayed what was lurking below the surface.

Occupying the workspace as well as a residence up the road some miles, the makeshift city of tents hugging the west wing of the cathedral billowed in the salty draft. Clustered close against the chill of the morning, the twosome were seated nearest the exit; Bai was waiting for a helicopter that would fly her to the airport, and Sam was just killing time. Never too far from sight, the rugrat was under a large tarp opposite the entrance. They were both watching the soon-to-be-owner of the known universe with the kid.

It was no mystery that she considered her present company to be a natural born troublemaker and therefore assumed that his line of questioning was the same exact thing he'd grown up hearing from nuns and concerned fathers alike. Leering at the one from Panama with the purest form of venom in her gaze, Bai couldn't see what made any of it his business.

All it took for Samuel to make his point was to gander at the reminder of what Rafe was capable of. He supposed that the beautiful part about traveling is who the hell cared what anyone looked like in a crowded airport.

"Who else would watch her while I'm in Beijing?" Scrutinizing Rafe with weary eyes that only a protective guardian could have, Bai sighed to herself. There was no question that she had messed up royally, but so far the multi-billionaire was pulling his punches. How much longer that would last was anyone's guess, and she shuddered to think of what it was all building towards.

Remark not meant to be rhetorical, it was aimed at the ticket burning a hole in the back of his pocket. Just between them for the time being, on the outside it would have sounded like she was referring to having to accept that Shoreline would be a part of her daughter's life. Technically under a trial period still, there were more than enough minions lurking around to lend a hand if Knot somehow ended up loosing the unofficial position as Daniella's babysitter. Brother to brother, Sam knew that the reason he was so good with the kid was because he had a younger sibling of his own, or had had one at some point. Paramilitary lieutenant aside, there surely had to have been at least a few others among the ranks that had some kind of experience with children. But they weren't talking about that.

"Rafe just threatened to take the kid away from you because one of your business partners reneged on a deal. If he even suspected-"

Curt, she cut him off before he could give any more validity to her fears. "He doesn't know. Rafe has no reason to doubt my loyalty. Or yours." It was odd, given how much she really didn't like him as a person, but somehow the businesswoman knew that she was going to miss the one from Panama once he was out of the picture. Not much, but she knew that when Rafe had gotten everything out of the convict that he possibly could, a tiny part of her would miss their conversations. "You're welcome."

Call it morbid curiosity, but Sam wanted to question what her plan would be if she was wrong about that. Shady and a complete scoundrel, the businessman had a certain way about him (not that she needed to be reminded of that fact). All the same, he wanted to know how she planned on circumventing the unforeseeable, how she found the secret to immortality behind a desk. Better yet he wanted to ask why she didn't share her discoveries with the world (for a generous fee at that), but she was clearly not in much of a confessional frame of mind. Bai never would earn that habit hanging in the back of her closet at the rate she was going. Part of him was beginning to doubt that she had ever intended to turn to God.

Instead of pose questions that he knew would never be answered, the brunette took another deep breath around the cigarette hanging crookedly out of his lips and tried to imagine how the girl would grow up with Rafe as her father. Circling back around to his own master plan, once he was in the clear and able to bring Nathan in on the hunt, their success just might help to humble the businessman-turned-adventurer. If not... "I see a lot of black in her future."

"Better than a prison smock."

Unsurprisingly there was no trace of remorse to be found when it came to her little one. Sam would say that he doubted even the baby daddy was immune to her maternal fury, however that was evidence he'd seen first-hand: Rafe's entire torso was a god-dammed war zone. Heart a map of lacerations, the skin around it fading to a dull maroon tinted with the ugliest shade of yellow-green, the damage only got worse the farther south you went. A little higher up, the right side of the multi-millionaire's face was still sporting the badge of honor from where the digital clock had been been smashed. Whatever had happened in London and spilled over to home, neither had escape unscathed.

"My little Daniella will be better than me, she has to be." On a lot of levels that would be a tall order for the kid, but in other areas the bar hadn't exactly been set all that high. Best case scenario, the kid ended up taking after the one and only Nadine Ross. Sam shuddered at that thought as he finished his cigarette.

Coughing a little too pointedly, she waved away the drifting cloud of ash carried by the breeze. Under the circumstances it was easier to vilify a habit no less worse than what she used to do herself than to acknowledge that Rafe was smiling while he read to his daughter. He was as far from perfect as you could get (especially when he was angered, and boy did she push him beyond his threshold), yet all the same the two genuinely seemed happy. Daniella loved her daddy, and he was finally warming up to her after months of avoiding being in the same room as the new born.

Lighter shining silver and white in the watery sun when he removed it from his jacket, the expert on pirate lore and other history also took out another cigarette from the pack. Rolling it between his forefinger and thumb as he contemplated putting it back, Sam smirked when baby Dells made Rafe drop the report he was attempting to get through. Whatever else he was, it was enduring to watch the other man with his daughter in moments like these.

Perhaps the most demanding submissive to live, the woman made it clear that he'd had enough by snapping his property in half and tossing the remains into the snow. The only sound between the two for a long stretch him flicking the dial, once it had been ignited she had glowered at the limp stick of nicotine as if it had personally offended her before ripping it clean out of his mouth. Luckily for her that wasn't his last one.

Unfazed and unamused, the brunette pulled out a replacement. "That's another cigarette you owe me."

"What are you even doing talking to me anyways?" It was no secret that Sam would run his mouth to just about everyone, so there was nothing suspicious about the two conversing in public. With Bai the aggression was less to protect their lie and merely boiled down to her being that prickly towards the ex-con. "We aren't friends."

Perhaps they weren't, but conversing with the imported businesswoman was still loads better than the alternatives. Generally speaking most of the guys from Shoreline were down to play cards when they weren't on duty, but if caught on the job they'd be more like to tell him to piss off. Regardless of shifts, they only ever seemed to have the same three topics preprogrammed into their systems. Bai could be spiteful, but at least there was diversity.

As a matter of fact, just last week they'd gotten into a nap-long debate about whether or not Napoleon was a visionary or a dick. Prior to that, their most memorable back-and-forth was about the ability of men and women being friends; suffice it to say that that one had left an emotional scar. Flying footwear aside, he was going to miss having a fellow intellectual who could hold their own - good thing he was about to be reunited with his little brother.

"Alright, you don't need to get hurtful." Waving her on, he savored the feel of the wind on his face, the crunch of the gravel that followed you no matter how many times you picked at the bottom of your shoes. Scotland was a great change of pace after all of those years in Panama, but it would be nice to take some time apart.

Tsking through her teeth with a roll of her heartless oceanic eyes, she perked up at the sudden and piercing wails of her daughter. Carried and amplified by the shrill air, the needy sobs were just enough to let it be known that the tiny tot was in need of either a bottle or a change. More likely to silence the shrieks than out of concern for the girl's general wellbeing, Rafe had quickly obliged and placed one of those little burping rags over his shoulder. Watching the woman watching the businessman with their progeny, Sam could see the hearts and stars shining in the woman's eyes as if it were for the first time.

 _Sic semper erat, et sic semper erit._ Thus has it always been, and thus shall it ever be. The cycle the consenting adults had found themselves in was almost enough to make one feel sorry for them. Almost.

"Did anyone ever tell you you need help? Like clinical help, with a shrink and everything."

He could have pressed the issue by adding her penchant for choosing to involve herself with psychopaths and other miscreants, however that would have been mean spirited. Usually they had that kind of rapport, yet as this would likely be the last time they saw each other he chose to be sympathetic to the fact that she was turning greener the more she thought about stepping foot onto a plane. If by some fluke they were ever reunited, he swore to himself that he wouldn't take it so easy, regardless of the circumstances.

Equally aware that this could have been it, she gazed at the convict in solemn contemplation. High class through and through, ending up among old money made sense, yet the one from Panama wasn't quite as bad as she liked to put off. Dare she even go so far as to admit that while his ilk may have been beneath deserving a second glance, he could have been good for Daniella. In his own way. But that didn't mean that she liked him as a person.

Actually, in these final moments, it occurred to her that she'd never acknowledged the one of his best days. "I never did thank you."

"For?" In his head, Sam liked to think that she had a softer spot for him than she cared to own up to. Bai would never cop to anything indicating that they were alright in each other's books, so he was very much for hearing her say the words. As for what she had to be grateful for, he had no doubt in his mind.

Immediately regretting broaching the topic, she rolled her eyes at his assery. "Way to ruin it. I was going to thank you for coming back for me when that tower collapsed, but now I just don't think I can muster up the strength. It's just too painful to talk about." The only hurtful part of that ordeal was having to face Rafe after he had written her fate off as a lost cause. Screaming it to the heavens for everyone in the country to hear, in hindsight that was not the way she had envisioned telling Rafe that she was pregnant, but nothing about that day had gone according to anyone's plan. "But thanks."

Flashing a mischievous smirk - the same kind that had gotten her into trouble before - the brunette shrugged it off as if it had been no big deal. It was close enough for him to count this as a victory. "What kind of a monster would leave an innocent woman to die like that?" In all seriousness, dying of asphyxiation was not a fate he'd wish on his worst enemy. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that heroics are the best way to keep in shape?"

Or die.

"Got a light?" Coming over to join the unlikely duo on the bench, the mullet himself ignored Bai (as usual) and spoke directly to Sam. Understandable given her obvious disdain for the habit, as well as the combination of her status and vocal opinion of the PMC, but it was still rude. Then again, no one had ever accused Orca of having manners.

Clearing her throat and pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, the businesswoman did her utmost to ignore the fact that her hand had been that close to brushing against the ex-con. Blaming the moment for getting to be a bit much, she reminded herself that if by some astronomical chance Rafe were to peer in their direction he might have came to certain conclusions. Inaccurate conclusions at this juncture, but not entirely unfounded.

If only he understood that at the end of the day, her heart beat only for one.

Hindered by natural delay, by the time that the shuttle had arrived there was practically only time for the luggage to be stored and nothing more. A trait that made him love her even more, Sam remembered that his own mother always had planned an extra few minutes before any venture just so she could say goodbye to her sons. It pissed their dad off to no end, but Samuel stopped caring what that asshole had to say long before his little brother was out of diapers. A different creature altogether, Bai had just left with a sad look over shoulder but no grander farewell than that. It could have been because parting from her little one was the cause of too much bitter sorrow, but the truth was probably someplace in the middle.

Left alone with one of Shoreline's finest - Jesus, Sam could barely even think that and keep a straight face - the ex-con took another long drag in silence. It was only a matter of time now before his path took him back to his little brother, and just a little bit longer after that they'd be counting their four hundred million. Until then, he'd just have to play his cards right and keep Nathan too preoccupied with the mission to dig into his Alcázar story. Sam wasn't worried though - Nathan lived for adventure and was probably just itching for his next big lead. Fifteen years was a steep price to pay, but he was certain that it would be well worth it after they had discovered Avery's treasure. Together.

"Samuel." Abandoning his effort to make the baby pay attention to the trade reports he was reviewing, the multi-billionaire flagged down the ex-con. Holding the child securely in the crook of his elbow as they worked in the heated tent, the crook began to bounce the baby on his knee. To show her approval, baby Dells gurgled spit bubbles as she gazed up at her father. Okay, so maybe the rich asshole wasn't as terrible with the kid as given credit for. "Come here for a minute."

Only mildly surprised to be called over by Rafe once Bai was gone, he was glad of the excuse to be rid of Orca. The mercenary had bummed one too many smokes from the expert without the slightest indicator that he would pay him back, and Drake was down to the last few in the pack. Not that it would matter for much longer, but there was still the principle of the thing.

"Your old lady owes me another cigarette." Playing cute, the skilled adventurer pulled up a spot on the edge of the card table being used as a desk. It wobbled slightly beneath his weight, but he knew from experience that it would hold. Whomever had purchased the furniture did a good job selecting the sturdy stuff and deserved a bonus. He also noticed that Rafe didn't care for Bai being identified in such strong terms, but after their most recent tiff that made sense.

Rafe juggled the tot around to the other leg as he gazed up from the charts and schematics on the table. Glinting in the light so that they looked much darker than normal, the younger man considered the expert. For a moment the thief thought that the shorter man was going to tear into him for smoking around the baby, although he never had before. Finally someone wasn't on his case about the dangers of smoking, and of course it had to be the sleaze of the criminal underworld. Or would it have been more appropriate to call him the big cheese? Observing the new father unconsciously smiling as he smelled the wisp of dark tuft atop the baby's head, he had to wonder about the semantics.

Brought down by the mention of baby mama, the patron saint of stupidity (he had to have been, to not see what Sam was scheming) shook his head and grit his teeth at what one of the papers was telling him. "I'll add it to the list of her offenses." Saving the document to be handled later, the icy-eyed thief set the dossier aside and reached over to his partner to let him know that he was being given his full attention. Steely fingers curling around his wrist, Drake's stomach fluttered nervously with the sensation that this was a trap. "I trust she wasn't too hard on you otherwise?"

What was this, kindergarten? Like Sam was going to narc the woman out, especially understanding what was at stake for her. Instead he simply shrugged her refusal to be friends off as her loss, which it was. The brunette knew that he may not have been perfect, but if he was in your corner, he was in your corner till the end. "Eh, some people just have problems with ex-cons."

Nodding his head as if he were reconciling something in his head, Rafe stopped bouncing his daughter, "Is that right? Hmm," whatever was on his mind seemed to be quite pressing, but the elder Drake wasn't sure that he wanted to delve deeper down that rabbit hole. Filled with the all-too-familiar feeling of knowing that he had no real choice in the matter, all Sam could do was brace himself. "You just can't trust some people, even if you want to. Can you believe that I actually wanted to trust her?" Laughing as if there was something funny about any of this, he resumed bouncing the baby when she began to fidget.

Uneasy, Sam took his hand back so that he could put out his cigarette and crushed it beneath his heel. "What am I doing here, Rafe?"

Lucid, the younger of the two men stated what he thought to be the truth, "We're friends, aren't we Samuel?" Free thanks to the multi-billionaire and intimately acquainted with his associate's grip on reality, the ex-con wasn't about to answer that if he could help it, but thankfully for him the other man wasn't about to give him that opportunity. "Bai's been with someone else."

Keeping calm and collected as to not rouse suspicion, Drake inquired as if he had had no idea and chuckled slightly at the thought, "What? I know that Miss Uptight likes to dress like she's all business, but that one's only got eyes for you. You should have seen the way she was looking at you when you were burping the rugrat today." Graduating from kindergarten to sixth grade, frankly the brunette would have been more surprised if Bai didn't have crates full of journals dedicated entirely to her possessive boyfriend.

"Bullshit." Rafe shook his head once more, but the two tempests seated in front of Sam could have passed for different men. "I saw her."


	9. Some Accidents Have A Silver Lining

**\- Chapter Eight -**

 **Some Accidents Have A Silver Lining And Are Worth A Second Chance**

Dawn breaking pale gold on a horizon of near obsidian sentinels, uneven fields of rosy rubble, and mauve pillars of civilization, Rafe woke from a fitful sleep. Haunted by the quietly bottled dismay that one accident would define him for the rest of his life, the man had been unable to achieve a more satisfied subconscious state and was therefore reluctant to face the day. Blind numbness from a lack of proper dreams receding like a dense fog over waves still as glass, as a result of his alert state there was no question of who he would find at his side. At the cathedral of Saint Dismas, there were only so many that it could have been, but in the city there were options. A man of his own whims, variety was important.

Yet somehow... Glancing across the sable sheets to find Nadine curled up at his side, snoring and content in the silk, he watched her with the faintest traces of envy. Curls tumbling across her face in a way that she wouldn't have tolerated while awake, there was a different kind of beauty to the woman when she was free of all her cares. And these last few days, the more there was for her to trouble herself with. It shouldn't have mattered to her any, yet it seemed as if she had spent every breath subtly implying just how important family was. When news broke that Bai had gone into labor, Nadine's hints had devolved into outright nagging that he go support the mother so that the child wasn't born under duress and with a darkness over its head.

Samuel had even chimed in with his own two cents on the matter. The multi-billionaire didn't need to hear it from all ends, so a few hours later he had the jet fueled and flew off to be with his right hand when she delivered the baby. Despite never outright addressing his own claim, he assumed doing that much would have eased his partners off his case, but Nadine was adamant that the bond of father and child be fostered. She was quiet now though.

Trained from boyhood to never tarry when there was something important on the schedule, the man who owned most everything worth owning in the world tossed the jet-black blankets off. Reaching for his favorite watch, he had it off the tabletop and on his wrist before he accomplished a vertical state. Running his fingers through the dark locks that fell into his icy stare, the businessman reviewed the itinerary for the day. Ordinarily it all revolved around research and analysis (along with the odd call), however today was special.

 _Special_. Ha.

Everyone else around him had been on edge for the past twelve hours, from the prim lieutenant never be far from his boss needing instructions twice to the mandatory well-wishes, however he had remained unruffled. Babies were useless distractions that ate large chunks out of even the biggest bank accounts, and as for the mother... Pregnancy doing little to change the nature of their relationship, to put it bluntly he expected that it was only a matter of time before she came begging, so being the generous sort that he was, he didn't need to ruin a good thing by witnessing the birth.

All the same, he realized that there were still certain expectations.

Sleek case shining on the nightstand as it waited, from how stationary the device was he knew that nothing had changed. Someone would have called him if the baby had been born while he slept, would keep calling him until he got the message, and the phone was still as death. Unconcerned about whether or not the child was a boy or a girl, all he knew was that the baby was taking its sweet time being born. He wasn't sure if that was more annoying or something he should applaud - the mother certainly deserved none of his sympathy and had earned everything she got.

Technically Rafe had already honored his word and had poked his head in on the woman - it wasn't his fault that the baby was refusing to get the show on the road. Still though, now that he was awake he may as well make another appearance to appease the unseen eyes watching his every move. Reaching over for the phone to scroll through the morning newsfeed and the early financial outlooks, he then called a service to ferry him to the hospital in twenty minutes. Scratch that, thirty. If the baby was being a primadonna and taking its time to come out, he had no reason to hurry either.

Bleached and sanitized around the clock, the door to the private hybrid flower store opened to the icy-eyed thief forty-five minutes later. Transparent tubes pumping blood back into the body with countless gray wires connecting her to every other type of machine imaginable, he found the woman whiter than a sheet. Flock of nurses earning their paychecks, one had broken free to inform the man that her condition was due to excessive blood loss. Bai had apparently struggled to have a natural birth, but complications had risen that left no choice (or time) so she had to be taken to surgery that morning. The baby had been delivered via a cesarean section twenty some-odd minutes ago and was currently with the doctor when he had arrived. That would explain the call he had opted to ignore on the way to the hospital.

Only the word 'complication' had registered. Obviously the entire staff must have been comprised wholly of under-certified idiots, because his business proxy was too strong to be downed by something that women did every day and had done since the dawn of time. Some even had gone through the process repeatedly in their lifetimes. There was no way that this was going to get her! _If anyone is going to kill this woman, it's going to be me._ Telling himself as much, he demanded to be left alone with the patient. Having the most gall among them, the freckled head nurse attempted twice to tell him that it wasn't a good idea, however she had shut her mouth and ordered most of the rest of them out when he waved a hundred dollars in her square face.

"Rafe." Paper thin and edged with something that sounded too much to the ears like weakness, she beamed when she saw him standing at the side of the bed. After almost losing the baby and her own life, Bai's happiness was complete when she saw that he had come. Arms connected to all kinds of IVs, the needles made it hurt like hell to move, however she still reached out for the man.

Mind absolutely on the other side of the spectrum, he couldn't stand to see her this way. Crossing his arms against his chest, he was glacial as any man could be when speaking, "I should fire you now."

Threat nothing more than wind in her present state, it was difficult to watch a woman that had overcome a cocaine addition with very few to thank for the success succumb to something like this. His Bai wasn't some wilting pansy that would wither from a little setback - his Bai was a fighter that pushed herself every day to prove to him that she was worthy of his recognition. Every time they fought, every time they found their way into each others arms, every time her heart broke, it was another test of her mettle, and every time she had managed to impress. Or close enough to give her the credit. The point was that she wasn't going to die like this - he wouldn't let her.

Delirious from her condition and the heavy medicine that she was being given, the woman nodded her head meekly against the pillow. She looked truly pathetic. "You should end us both. Now you have Nadine. What about my needs?" Brow shining as she blinked over at the businessman, Bai manged a feeble head shake, "I should have waited. Should have remembered..." yawning, she was slipping away, "...party."

Party? Young once and always fabulously wealthy, it could never be said that there had been a shortage of get togethers in all the several years they had been acquainted. In fact that was often when the woman would reveal herself at her lowest, and why she was was missing part of her right pinky. Belligerent, jealous, prone to a wild imagination, and just a general vexation, Bai was the last person you wanted to show up for a social gathering, unless you were into the drama of reality tv trash. Having said that, they had also had some damn good times; Vegas was always a blast, and if it hadn't been for removing himself from his own celebration, they probably wouldn't be sitting here at the hospital today. But which was she referring to?

Brain automatically traveling back in time to his twenty-second or twenty-third birthday, the multi-billionaire fondly (and vividly) recalled the time that her vices became his personal knowledge. Oh how he had milked that to his advantage...! Monumental as that must have been for her, something told him that that wasn't what was on her mind. Racking the backlogs for what that else it could have been, when the answer presented itself, he could have slapped himself for being so dumb. _Of course that was what she meant_.

On the first big outing since he helped her get clean and shape up her act - which just so happened to be a company-wide Christmas party - she had bullied some little intern into being her escort. Clearly she had lost her damn mind, because her only goal that night had been to get underneath his skin for some perceived slight. Done up all in things he had gifted her, hanging all over every man that she could sink her fangs into while only really seeing one, she brought it on herself when he snapped. Requesting a slow song of some minor significance, she hadn't been in the spotlight a minute when the multi-billionaire had slapped her on the dance floor. Cold, unexpected, and in front of everyone, she had taken the blow. Her lack of fight infuriated him more than anything else, so he had hit her again. Everyone pretended that they hadn't noticed, but they knew.

What was missing from the story was that after she had been shouted at for her lack of professionalism, well after both of their dates had been forgotten and she followed him off to wherever they had gone to be alone, he told her that he didn't have to cover her detox by saying that she was working on a project abroad. He could have let the vultures descend when her habits became a problem that could no longer be contained, but he'd stepped up to protect her in her time of need. He was good to her when he had no reason to be, so she should have been kissing the ground he walked on.

"Sir?" Left to monitor the dosage and that the woman didn't take a sudden turn for the worse, a different nurse from before approached. Aside from him, there was another person in drubs bobbing about, but that didn't come as much of a surprise when it was taken into considerate how much money was being shelled out to keep the woman and her child alive. This one spoke with the assertive air of showing him out, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave now. This woman needs to rest." No, that pallor creeping over her figure was completely natural.

Allowing himself to be shown to the door, Rafe nodded automatically when the squat ginger gestured back to the sleeping beauty. Countenance leeched of all life as she drifted off, he mused to himself that death became the woman.

"Are you the baby's father?" As of that moment, there was no concrete evidence to the contrary, so the businessman inclined his head in acknowledgement. Even then he refused to admit his responsibility aloud, though he was doing everything that a father with all of his near-unlimited resources would do. "Would you like to meet your daughter?"

So it was a girl.

Unsure he could have made himself care if it had been a boy, knowing the gender of the baby still didn't matter one whit. Pausing in the harshly lit corridor as if he were considering the question, Rafe had merely stopped to reach into his pocket. Extracting his wallet, the icy-eyed thief handed the other man a stack of clean bills. "Let's just say that I did." Understanding the transaction, the nurse dipped his head and took the money.

The first time that Rafe actually saw his little girl was late one stormy night.

Wisely (albeit with many a curse) the operation had been halted due to the weather, and since the advisory was pointing to a possible hurricane, the entirety of Shoreline had gone mainland to hunker down until they received an all-clear. Nadine had gone ahead with her men, which had just left Samuel with the billionaire, the baby, and the wheelchair-bound baby mama. Bai had not only abused her maternity leave but had somehow fallen down a flight of stairs and wound up extending the paid vacation by breaking her leg. Recent as the injury was, she had been recuperating at a nearby hotel so that the baby could be seen by her father at his leisure. Nothing more than dead weight, she was in too frail a condition to wander about.

Left no choice but to abandon the island for the time being, when the power had went out across the map he had relocated the foursome to sunnier shores. With Bai in need of near constant care, that left Sam to have to see to her. The ex-con complained at length about having to tend to the bespectacled businesswoman, but there was no secret that he was enjoying the break from the constant cold of the deary cathedral. In turn that had left the baby to Rafe.

Crying from the crib that first night, the little girl looked so small and helpless when she fussed and kicked the peach-colored covers off. Something to cross his mind before, it occurred to him just how easy it would have been to right the wrong. Anything could have been to blame: him being out of the room for just a moment, the coverlets, the seeping cold that carried over from Scotland. Yes, he quite liked that last one as it would have been Bai's fault.

Prepared to turn away from the wailing newborn to leave her to her own devices, Rafe made the mistake of looking at the child to remember the moment. Unnaturally blue and too big for her head, the baby's eyes reminded him of Bai. Loosing the girl would truly devastate the woman. Pursing his lips as he examined the baby closer to see if he could see the resemblance that the woman always droned on about, he acknowledged that she hadn't done anything lately to warrant such a harsh punishment.

Staring up at the strange man that she had never seen before, the baby ceased her call for attention and smiled up at him. Extending her chubby little hands to the billionaire, the little girl giggled happily. Taking the hint that she just wanted someone to hold her, he cautiously picked the bundle up only to drop her back into the bed when she unleashed her lunch all over his front. Leering down at the little urchin as he wiped off most of the sick, she returned the scowl with another joyous grin. Unmoved and pondering if the barf had been malicious or if the smile was just to rub it in, he turned away and left to clean himself up.

From that point on, if one of his party had been unable to see to the baby, he called in one of the hotel staff to take care of the girl. If he had done it himself, there was no guarantee that he would show mercy a second time.

Weeks after that there had been a time when such service was not a luxury. Troubled by dubious tax reports and a string of sexual harassment suits being filed against the head manager of the Des Moines branch, the businessman had been stuck in a meeting with Bai. That was nothing out of the ordinary in and of itself, however the woman had refused to go anywhere without the baby. In a moment of confusion and a potential million-dollar loss with a client that she herself had brought in, it was the woman's duty to smooth things out. Really tearing into the guy for attempting to back out once he realized what he had gotten himself into, the stockinged typhoon became momentarily to busy to hold the baby.

Handing it over to Rafe with the most scorching of stares that brooked no room for argument, he looked at the thing in his arms with distrust. It was a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off.

Hesitant to be so close in proximity to the girl and making disgruntled faces as he held her at arms-length, once again the baby showed her appreciation and smiled at him. On one hand he wondered if the child was broken or simply that grateful to be away from her smothering mother, and on the other it crossed his mind that she just realized greatness when she saw it. Untested as his new theory was, the infant seemed to innately know when she was in the presence of her father. Knot never got half as warm a reception from the girl when he was placed in charge of her (which was fairly often in truth), and Sam was even less keen on being around the baby than even Rafe was.

All the same, the minute that Bai was off the phone he had thrust the baby back into her arms. Watching her whimper slightly when trading hands, he graced the girl with a second look.


	10. Heavy Is The Head

**\- Chapter Nine -**

 **Heavy Is The Head**

"She's not coming up..." Panicking that the young woman had yet to resurface from where she had fallen into the pool, the second boy looked to the third. For support, for answers, for some kind of directive to action. It was no use looking to the first, as he was the reason why she had gone under in the first place. "Tommy, she's not coming up! We need to get help, we gotta-"

Three seconds shy of flailing his arms around and running in a slanting circle like a chicken that had lost its head, the second boy had already seemed to conveniently forget his own role in the story. They were only trying to scare her, to have fun where there was none to be had, he wasn't out to hurt anyone! He was a good person - he donated when he could, and though the other guys didn't know it, his dog Thunder had been adopted from a shelter. Maybe he wasn't perfect, and perhaps the liquor was even largely to blame, but it never crossed his mind to genuinely harm the girl. He had a young nephew that he simply adored, and he was biracial too!

Less than amused by the cowardice on display after he had been the only one man enough to pay the bitch back, the leader shoved his long-time friend to the side and away from the miserable scene. In the back of his mind, there was still some hope remaining that if he were to separate them from the edge of the pool, they might just forget what they had witnessed and sack the hell up.

Finger flying into the second boy's chest, the first teen laid out the plan and interrupted the second thoughts in one flew swoop. "We ain't gotta do shit. I already gotta strike on my record, and I'm not about ta get another. If anyone asks, we were in the room the whole night. This chick just had too much ta drink and did it herself. I don't know shit, you don't know shit, Tommy don't know shit."

The third boy, Tommy, chimed in as he regained his feet, "But her head-"

Forcing himself to stare down into the water where the girl was slowly beginning to drown, eyes roving first from her prone form to the scarlet swirl by her temple that made it next to impossible to make out the gash, he was determined to burn the memory into his mind. He did this, and he didn't even feel that badly for it. There wasn't any joy in his marrow at the knowledge that he had caused a girl to no longer exist, no rush of power or hunger to do it again. Numb to the unfolding experience, he didn't feel anything, but why should he when she had brought it on herself?

His old man didn't accept weakness, and to turn away now would be the ultimate act. Striving to make his old man proud - even if he never knew about this incident - the big bad boss of the three man gang raised his hand to his friend and threated the other boy. It was bad enough if one of them was on the verge of cracking, they didn't need to both loose their nerve. "You want a matching one?"

Beta in every sense of the word, Tommy stepped down at the promise and looked to his friend for support. He agreed that it was best to just go along with what they were told, but he needed to know that he wasn't alone in giving up control of the situation.

Despite the best efforts of the alpha to get him away from the edge of the pool, the second boy's eyes darted to the blood that was clouding crimson and carmine around the girl. They might have done things that vilified them in the eyes of their peers, but he just couldn't cope with the guilt from this. Jumping in himself didn't occur to the boy, but he did remember that there was someone a few floors up that could help with with kind of thing. He'd never spoken to the guy himself, but he'd seen him around, and rumor was that he had helped Tommy's old man out of a jam once. He knew in his gut that he had to at least attempt to make this right.

"I gotta go!"

What he was doing was suicide: if not because he had acted on his accord, it was going to be his hide for snitching, however it had to be done. Ducking around the one they had elected to act in their best interest at all times, he missed the mad bull rush only to slip _hard_ on the back splash of their crime. Kinda bad ass like in old 2d platformers, the second boy took the sideways dive in stride and hastily scrambled upright. Too bad there wasn't a working camera to catch all the action - stupid paranoid whales had seen to it that they wouldn't end up on the Discovery channel. Setting that aside to bemoan later when it wasn't his ass on the line, he darted out the door before they could catch him.

Filled with blind rage and thinking that he was going to report this to the authorities (or at the least someone else that would do it for him), the leader dashed after the second boy. "You're dead, Liam!" Liam was fast, but he didn't know the hotel layout as well. "You hear me?! We'll find you, and we're going to KILL you!" Exclaiming to the heavens, he would turn this into a massacre if he had to.

Tommy just stood there, half in awe that Liam would directly disobey orders for some girl that they didn't know (especially after she had given them every reason to just abandon her), half in horror that he was an accomplice to murder. The girl might not have been dead just yet, but it was just a matter of time. He privately agreed that they shouldn't just leave her there, but what else could they do? Given the order to turn on Liam after everything they had been through together, he had to erase what amounted to half his life just to make his legs move.

Zipping passed a scandalized-looking detective that was too run down from the job to care what the young hooligan was up to to be running through the halls, Liam bolted from the pool and took the stairs up two at a time. He had no clue how long someone could last while drowning, but he suspected that it wasn't long. Weighing what was worse to motive himself to move faster, ultimately he couldn't decide if brain damage beat a slow demise. He only knew that neither was a good way to be.

Half-way up the hotspot for smoking on rainy days such as these - or really the place to go to do anything that you didn't want to get busted doing - the teen paused to catch his breath when he saw a lost-looking man. Haste and devouring consternation enough to blur away the face of his own mother, the young man didn't recognize the very person he was looking for. Mind set on bringing the body to the right place rather than to the individual he'd find behind the door, all he saw was graying hair and an agitated expression. Surmising the lanky old fart to be misplaced and senile, it seemed as if he was searching quite adamantly for something or someone. Probably his dentures or his Viagra.

"Hey you," once a brunette before the gray had crept in, the dark-eyed figure accosted Liam from five steps away, "have you seen a girl? Dark hair, roughly your age?"

Any other day of the week, Liam would have rolled his eyes and given some sarcastic retort, but that description (vague as it was) was eerily too close to the vest. Not caring if his scattered mind was using the old idiom appropriately, the teen boy nodded his head with a sharp pull on his own neck, "Pool." Lungs on fire, he could only manage short sentences of about a word each, but it was enough to get the ball rolling. So what if this wasn't that guy he was looking for? Anyone that wasn't the police would have been helpful under the circumstances. "Hurry!"

Search yielding nothing as of yet, Sam knew that to better hunt his prey, he had to understand his prey. Frankly the ex-con had no idea if the girl understood how to find her bearings in a situation or not (he would guess not), but based on the kind of luck that she was having it made sense that she would get turned around. Taking fortune's hand a step further, the thief would go so far as to assume that somehow or other the heiress would find herself in harms way. Stumbling across his first legitimate lead was promising, but from how shaken the kid was he knew that it wasn't going to be a fairy tale ending.

Throwing open the undecorated door to the emergency fire escape, two more boys the same approximate age of the girl barreled into the crowded stairwell. "Liam, get your ass-!" Screaming for the boy that had been kind enough to offer the free tip of where to look next, the two paused when they saw that their friend had company.

It wasn't difficult to guess what had happened.

Leslie and his little friends would be dealt with later, at his own discretion and in a manner fitting of the part they had played. With a single scowl at the bickering children that shut down any and all fight, the grizzled brunette was deathly silent all the way to the indoor swimming hole. So far as the boys were concerned, he'd left the trio in the stairwell to sort their business amongst themselves. For one thing he just didn't have the time to spare on their bullshit, and for another it was clear at a single glance that none of them had the balls to stick around to see this thing through to the end. Was it just a generational thing he wondered, or were there just no real men left in the world?

Bursting through the door like the ultimate deus ex machina, the man scanned the room for signs of the heiress, but there was no trace of her. Unless... Gutted by a fist of stone and fearing what was waiting for him, Sam went to the tiled edge of the pool and was immediately greeted by a distorted ruby bloom that had swallowed a darker pod. Unmoving beneath the rippling surface and emitting the faintest of bubbles at odd intervals, the heiress sank deeper down to the floor of the deep end.

Without a second thought, he dove into the rectangular pit and swam with all his might towards the body. Brain putting together that at least one of the three boys had done something to injury the young woman before she had gone for a dip, he was more focused on the task at hand. Parting to his level strokes, the chlorine saturated depths were for his mission in that he felt little resistance, yet at the same time she seemed to be descending faster and faster the closer he got. Reaching the girl after what seemed like twelve feet more than any pool had, he seized her wrist to reel her in. Weighing next to nothing as she floated into his arms, he grabbed the girl by the armpit once she was close enough and he dragged her back to the surface, to oxygen and life.

Ascent unassisted, her head rolled to the side when they broke against the burning mirror to the surface. Rescue much less dramatic when he realized that they had risen at a slant and were then that far from the deep end, he stood up at his full height and carried the girl through the rest of the water and set her on the pale white tile. Soaked shirt making it that much harder to tell if she was breathing, he climbed up the side of the pool to kneel at her side. Shift in angles doing little enough to prove one way or another if it was too late, as he hunched directly over the girl's prone figure he could just barely distinguish the gentle rise and fall of her ribcage. That was a promising sign, but he could tell that something was still off.

Everything fleeing from his mind, he could barely even remember the CPR lessons that Nathan and Elena had insisted that he take when Cassie was born, let alone why saving this girl mattered so much. Gazing down at her as she laid there defenseless and inert, Sam just knew that he had to.

Pressing his palms to her chest to pump the water out of her lungs, he allowed half a millisecond to pass before beginning chest compressions. Pushing hard and fast down on the center, he did everything right yet she continued to just lay there. Trying again but with more urgency, he proceeded to give the teen mouth-to-mouth. Tilting her head back at the chin to keep from touching the fresh wound on her scalp, the active historian pinched the nose and covered her mouth with his own before blowing. Feeling a sudden surge of gratitude that giving up smoking had allowed him the capacity to do this without killing them both, he gave two breaths before pumping her chest again, keeping it up until her body responded.

Sputtering the water out in bleached waves and coughing away the rest, a barely conscious Daniella finally opened her eyes the slightest bit as the air returned to her lungs. Not positive of how long she was out of it, only that she was still far from alright, the teen couldn't keep her eyes open from the excruciating sting throbbing continually in her head from where the bottle had smashed into the side of her face. Pretty sure that it had been the stranger that had been the one to save her, she brushed her fingertip against the back of his wrist before she was out of it.

Halo of pearl surrounding him, he had looked like an angel...

Overwhelmed, the girl had swooned before he got the chance to ask her if she would be alright. Aware of just how redundant the question was, Sam peered at the scarlet smear staining the side of her face. The midnight swim had probably made it look a lot worse than what it was, but he wasn't about to take any chances. True to his selfish wish for action at the expense of the young girl, the convict would have to move her quickly to patch her up. For now though, the question was where exactly to take her? No doubt her mother would be up in arms and declare that the teen be taken to the hospital, but as a seasoned adventurer that lived under the radar for a reason, he knew that that would be a bad idea for a number of reasons.

Usual means of care off the table, the remaining options were to carry her back to his room or to kill two birds with one stone and use this opportunity to transport her to the safe house. Pulling out the tried-and-true method of crafting a list of pros and cons, if he were to bring the girl back upstairs that would be considerably closer, however medical supplies were on the scarce side. On the other side of that coin, the safe house was always well stocked for any situation, and this could have been serious. The downside there was that it was a ways off, and the heiress wasn't out of the woods just yet.

Glad that he remembered to always keep his phone on hand, Drake opened his speed dial and rung up Victor. His parter had hardly had time to accept the call before he started, "I found her, but it's not looking good. There's a lot of blood here. Victor, you still got that ol' piece of crap?"

Sullivan opted to ignore the dig at the trusty Dodge he had lifted some years back, instead adding up what Samuel was getting at. "Called one of those lift services. Why?" With his boys, he knew that he wasn't going to like the answer.

"I'll explain on the way." Really it was a short enough story to just tell the old man that the Princess here had decided to make some new friends and take a swim, however he was more interested in not making the job of her enemies that much easier. Making sure that she was holding on, even if it was a paltry effort on her part, the man sat up straight, "Right now we just need to get someplace I can patch her up."

Apparently on speaker phone - one of the hazards of losing your hearing he supposed - the surfer piped up and said the most useful thing he probably ever said in his whole life. "I have a truck. I'll take you wherever ya need to go."

"Great." Tone betraying the chagrin that it was becoming more and more unlikely that they would be rid of the blonde any time soon, at the same time Sam was genuinely relieved that someone there had their own ride. "Someone needs to find her mother so we can get a move on." Dealing with Bai was going to be a headache, but as he picked up the teen - who was now much heavier and quite the strain on his back as it turned out - in a messed up way this might have been just what they needed. "Better idea, just leave a note telling the harpy that we had to step out." With her underground network, it would be easy enough to track them down.

And if that were true for the businesswoman, it was likely even more true for the two fractions that wanted her daughter. It was a good thing he didn't plan on staying long.

Shifting the girl around in his arms so that her injury wouldn't draw too much attention when they strolled through the lobby, he hung up the phone with one hand and rested it across her stomach. Clashing elements outside cracking in rage and sorrow, he changed his mind about that placement and slipped the device up her sleeve. In hindsight it probably would have been easier to just set her down and put it away in his pocket the right way, but he wasn't enchanted by the notion of having to pick her up a second time. "You know, if I were you I'd ask if the chef was feeding you enough."


	11. Not Twiddling Our Thumbs

**\- Chapter Ten -**

 **Not Twiddling Our Thumbs**

Bare hands warming up just from holding the disposable mug, Sullivan watched the elder Drake brother as he dashed off in search of some girl. Having spoken to the young woman in question before finding himself in the middle of a deal going sideways, his first impression was that of every skirt - it would only equal trouble. It didn't matter how pure the circumstances were, Sully could still call how it was going to unfold. Whether or not it was vital details being obscured for some inconvenient reveal at the most dramatic moment possible or just one party taking more of a shine to the other, it rarely ever played out well. In fact, off the top of his head he could only name one instance where there had been a happy ending.

Sure, there could be some really magical moments on the journey, events that would stick with you for a lifetime, but the odds were not stacked in his partner's favor. Not to say that women couldn't hold their own when it mattered - Chloe Frazer and Nadine Ross were just two examples to come to mind - but because there was a prior history with someone that wasn't exactly what you'd call a friend... Whatever Sam had been hoping to get out of the job (besides stacks of cash that would take hours to count), it just wouldn't be worth it. The teen was too young to know what she was getting herself into and would more than likely be the one who got hurt. No, the real dangerous one was the mom. If she could recount business from over thirty years ago, there was a part of the woman that was clearly still not over the psycho. He shuddered to think of how big that part was.

Cushions damp yet not so much as to be a real concern, a closer inspection revealed that the surface was coated in dried dirt and the crevices were home to pieces of egg. Having lived through worse, the old man settled in while he had the chance and took a sip of the spiced espresso. It wasn't awful, but he failed to grasp what the fascination was with changing up a perfectly fine recipe.

"Alright," as comfortable as he was going to get, Sully looked to the first available source of information he had at his disposal, "care to explain what the hell is going on around here?"

To recap what he knew, Rafe had fathered a daughter with the business-oriented Bai, and something had happened in their life to leave no other choice than to go to Drake. Judging from the apparent age of the young woman, she would have already been born before her father died, most probably at some point when the ex-con was still working with the loon. If that was the case, it wasn't a far stretch to assume that Sam and Bai had met at least once in the past. Imaging that that alone was a source of some of the tension between the two adults, overhearing something about the girl getting married off filled in a good amount of the blanks. Gathering the gist of the story, what remained one of the biggest holes in the overall picture was how exactly the man eying the extra coffee was involved.

Logan Savage was not the type of person that came to mind when seeking a reliable answer, especially to important events, however he had been paying extra close attention to the situation around him as it unfolded. Almost funny enough to laugh about, while he had a pretty good idea what it was that Sam Drake did for a living, he never expected that he would get himself caught in the tide. Now that he was involved in what could be considered the family business, the happily married beach rat wasn't going to let the man he believed to be his father down! After all, he still had his own affairs to attend to, and even if it didn't work out the way he had hoped it would, at the very least he needed Sam to hear him out.

Educated prior on the people most commonly associated with the Drake brothers, thanks to all the meticulous intelligence the P.I. had collected, the blonde knew that the old man could be trusted. Rather, he knew that Victor could be trusted with the story so far, "I'm kinda still figuring it out for myself man, but the bae with the glasses-"

"You mean Bai?" Lovely as a prized family tapestry that had been passed down the line, she was the only one there who wore glasses. All the same, he had to familiarize himself with the way Logan spoke so that he didn't get people mixed up during the tale.

In a rush to get everything out for whatever reason, the surfer bobbed his head so that the bun on top of his crown bounced like a seal performing tricks at the circus. "Cha. Anyways, the bae with the glasses came to Sam to protect the dead rich dude's daughter. I think her name was Dani...?" He shrugged it off, as it was close enough for him. "Turns out she made some bogus deals, so now her own father is coming to collect. Pretty major shit." Gesticulating as he articulated, the blonde let his words hang in the air for a moment before resuming, "But it gets worse - there's a second group after Dani. The bae with the glasses isn't very popular, so there was some heavy conspiracy shit, and now some of her own dudes are turning on her to change management."

"What the hell are you on about?" Scratching his head at the information overload, Sullivan understood what he was being told, but it was a lot to take in all at once like that. "And would it kill you to speak like a normal person?"

Logan began again, speaking slower so that there was time to register what he was laying out. "Um, Bae, she's into some deep shit with her own men. There were some mad rumors that she's lying about Dani being the dead rich dude's daughter. According to Bae, they found some dude to rally behind. She thinks that the bombing was his doing."

"What bombing?"

Television left on the news even though it had been a heavy blow to the two women, right now the program had shifted from the live feed to some puff piece about how to travel wisely (and quickly) for the upcoming holiday. Edging closer to the counter like some crab-person during his explanation, Logan helped himself to one of the extra coffees before recounting what he recalled seeing broadcast nationally. At this point it became clear that they weren't going to have any time to mull over ideas for Cassie, so Sully could care less who drank the beverages so long as they weren't put to waste.

Not his favorite flavor - being more of a tea guy himself - the blonde took in a strong whiff before taking his first swig. His wife practically lived at the coffee shop, so every drink reminded him of his irreplaceable Chelsea. He wished that she could have been there, but it wasn't a good call in her condition. "Now that's something I can get behind. Hmm," Half sighing, half struggling to go back, he had to think about it for a moment, "Let's see, it was really recent, like within these last twenty-four hours I think. I dunno, some fancy-schmancy place."

"Dani totally freaked out when she saw the aftermath." Bombings were never good, but she had given off the vibe that the place had meant something to her personally, that this was a genuine blow. "The reporter said a bunch of stuff, um, something about the survivors finding out that she hadn't been seen for about a full day? Er, something along those lines. I dunno 'bout any of that, I just found her chillin' on the sofa." At that cue, he pointed to the shards of glass that had still littered the floor, "Dani did that when I caught her messing with her bra. Pretty sure that Bae wasn't stoked about how she had spent the night - I can only imagine how miffed she would have been if she had come over any earlier."

So the story about spilling something on herself was a lie. Victor could understand why the young woman wouldn't want to just go airing her dirty laundry like that, so he didn't blame her for concocting a fabrication of the truth. However, the older gentleman did have to take issue with Sam's behavior - he would have figured that the man would know better than to take advantage like that. _I mean Jesus kid, she_ _couldn't have been that much older than Cassie!_

Although there was something else that was still bothering Sully about all of this. "And, uh, what exactly was _your_ role in all of this?"

Plopping down on the couch with a resounding thud, Logan nodded in earnest and extended his hand for an old school greeting, "Name's Logan Savage." Shake firm yet hiding resolution behind a friendly visage, the surfer summed up his involvement in two simple words that explained pretty much everything Sullivan needed to know. "Sam's son." Hence the strong resemblance.

 _Sam's... son...?_

Neither Drake sibling was eligible for sainthood - in fact they weren't much different in that regard - but at least one of them could say that he had cleaned his act up. Elena had done wonders for Nate, and they'd all accepted that Sam was just a lovable scoundrel (like himself), however this was the first time that Victor had heard anything about a son. Once more aging by looks alone, if this Logan character was telling the truth about his connection to Samuel, that would put the act of conception way back when he was just a kid himself. Thinking back to the bratty rascal he had known back in those days, it added up clean.

Saved from having to come up with an answer to that accusation, the phone rang. Accepting the call before he even looked to see who it was, as if there was a doubt, Sully could tell right away that his partner had been successful in his endeavor. "I found her, but it's not looking good." Worry laced into Sam's tone, the older man could tell it wasn't grave just yet, but there was definitely the possibility that the situation could dip south. "There's a lot of blood here. Victor, you still got that ol' piece of crap?"

Nate often knocked the car too, yet that vehicle had gotten them all from point A to point B with little fuss. In fact he had considered taking it out of the garage today, however for how trusty the old Dodge was, he didn't like to take it out when the weather was this bad. Instead of fight an eternal stalemate with Sam, he caught on to what the ex-con was getting at. "I called one of those lift services." Sullivan was already getting up before he knew that he had to or what the plan even was. "Why?" With his boys, he knew that he wasn't going to like the answer.

"I'll explain on the way." Brushing it off for later, the two in the room had to wonder just how much could have happened in the short span of time that they had been left alone. Listening to some kind of movement on the other end of the call, Logan and Sully glanced at each other. Without further direction the blonde had set the mug down on the low table and was moving to grab the half-packed bag on the counter top. "Right now we just need to get someplace I can patch her up."

Perhaps the most useful thing he'd say all month, the surfer volunteered his services, "I have a truck. I'll take you wherever ya need to go."

Voice tightening in annoyance with the surfer's continued presence, Sullivan completely understood what was going through Drake's mind in that moment, however if he grasped the concept that he wasn't wanted, the blonde didn't let on. "Great." Ride covered, there was still one more thing on the agenda that needed to be addressed: Bai. "Someone needs to find her mother so we can get a move on." Clearly heard gritting his teeth as he moved something heavy, Sam exhaled in a huff, "Better idea, just leave a note telling the harpy that we had to step out."

Already stationed in the charming kitchenette, Logan peered curiously around the area as he shouldered the bag. Finding a notepad fastened to one side of the refrigerator by some sort of magnet or glue, the blonde's guess was that the thin stacks of paper were a means of communicating to the staff and/or other tenants. Or just to write letters to yourself, as one does. Taking the pen from the snazzy little hooks made for just that purpose, he knelt over to scrawl down a message for Bae. Taking the suggestion literally, he got so far as saying 'found her' when the old man stopped him.

Second coffee in hand (odds were that someone was going to need it), Sully shook his head when he saw the surfer, "You know that he didn't actually mean to write a letter, right?"

"I was just going to say that she could call me at my numb-" explaining himself and his logic, the blonde stopped when he heard the words spilling out of his mouth. "Ooohhh. Yeah, that would be pretty dumb. Why don't you just wait here for her then? You know where we're heading for, cha?" The kid grinned at his own intelligence, proud of how much he was contributing to the solution.

Sullivan didn't have the heart to tell him that that was his plan. Outside of the staff, he was one of the few with a key. And obviously someone had to stick around to keep the situation under control - it would have been cruel on the woman to just take her daughter away without explaining why or where she was being taken. Although he didn't much relish the idea of spending all that alone time with someone that must have had the notion - however briefly the madness may have lasted - that the sun rose and fell on the whims of the deceased multi-billionaire.

"Daniella!" Tearing down the halls and screaming out her daughter's name at the top of her lungs, the more people she got staring at her for the disturbance she was creating, the angrier she was getting with the girl.

At work, even though she was surrounded by malicious intent on all sides Bai was able to grab and maintain the room's attention with little more than an indoor voice and a cold command. People knew better than to question her reasoning in front of the rest of the group (largely due to her penchant for doling out humiliating and often times grim repercussions), and even her biggest opposition had better sense than to ignore her instructions. What she wanted got done, even when all the pawns were quietly preparing a rebellion. _On that note, there are still important calls to be made._

Inherited headache one thing, motherhood was a struggle of a different sort. Because she loved that little girl so damn much, the woman lacked the heart required to take the rod to the child, to discipline her properly when she stepped out of line. Danielle's grandfather had never once spared his own daughter from a punishment, even when she had been wrongfully accused - he never even apologized for having the girl stripped and lashed when it came back that she had been innocent. It was that kind of resentment that had inspired her to be the leader that she was, and that kind of treatment that twisted her into desiring destructive relationships. She had Zhihao to thank for Rafe.

Bai didn't subscribe to the notion of a soul mate, yet Rafe had completed her in a way that no one else had been able to. And he had been the only one that had left her with a lasting reminder of their time together. Collecting her thoughts, the woman pictured her daughter when she was a much smaller child, perhaps only seven or eight. The trek through the airport had done the suit in, but the girl was eager to get to see a foreign land and was bouncing about rambunctiously. Dressed up like a little pirate and clutching the stuffed snowy owl she had carried at all times, the girl darted from stall to stall as she took it all in - Daniella didn't care about the funny looks she had been getting for her getup, she was too busy enjoying herself. Waddling along up the dozens of stairs in the market square at much slower pace, Bai recalled cringing when her husband reached for the small of her back. He'd wanted a photo, so his step-daughter could always remember her first trip to King's Bay, however the woman had walked on and told him that he could do what he wanted to do.

Doubtful that Daniella even remembered that family vacation, she herself could never forget how afraid she was when the girl had gone missing. Retiring early to the hotel to spend the rest of the time relaxing by the pool (she had wanted to go to the Bahamas, but had been outvoted), she'd left Shen with their daughter for quality bonding time. Apparently they had had a good time together, but on the way back at the end of the day, he'd somehow misplaced the girl. Outraged and horrified that she would never see her precious baby ever again, the girl had turned back up on her own five minutes later. Shen had been buying her a treat before dinner and had turned away only to pay, and she had gotten distracted like kids her age were wont to do. Clever, she had found her own way back. Tossing her arms around Daniella and never wanting to let go ever again, the stress had been severe enough to cause lasting health complications, although she never blamed her daughter for that. In fact, whenever she thought about it in the privacy of her own mind, Bai would thank her.

Reverting back to her mother tongue to berate the absent child, the bespectacled human scarecrow muttered darkly about the heiress being fortunate that she was a far more lenient parent than any of the men in the family would have been. Trying once more, Bai shook the unpleasant memories away as best she could. "Daniella!" If this kept up much longer, she would have to resort to using the teen's full name.

Correct about the corridors looping around on themselves, the woman passed Sam's room once more before deciding that she would take the elevator. A normal child would run away to their friends house and cool down there, but but she had seen to it that Daniella didn't have any friends. Critical of the kind of filth to be around her progeny, the businesswoman owned that the heiress had her moments where she was as melodramatic as her father, so that only left one place she would go. Technically there was a second alternative, as the girl often found solace lost amongst pages of dust and ink, however Bai doubted that there was a library of any sort nearby.

Elevator opening to admit the woman, she frowned at the priest standing next to the near wall. Arms burdened by a white umbrella and a heap of manila folders stuffed to the point of overflowng, he peered over at the bedraggled female curiously, "My child, is there something I can help you with?"

Cobalt orbs flashing at the greeting, the woman took a second to dust her shoulders off and rake her fingers through the sophisticated bun that had become a wrecked knot. There was no helping her glasses, but that didn't prevent her from straightening the frames. Appearance always important, she shoved into the tiny space and gave him a fleeting glance out of courtesy, "No, I don''t think you can." Under the circumstances, everyone that wasn't her was the enemy. Even the thief she had hired to play the part of the faithful bodyguard was not to be completely trusted.

Trust thin on all fronts after reuniting with her offspring, the businesswoman mused that Daniella was fortunate for a good many things. By all rights that little girl should be kissing the ground her mother walked on for all that she had done, but instead the ingrate only sang praises for a dead man. It hurt that her baby would overlook her contributions and sacrifices, although that seemed to be one of the joys of parenthood. Now that the one from Panama had gotten his dirty clutches into her...

"Just hang on." Willing the teen left in his care - a convincing argument could be made the decision was a foolish one - to stay strong, the elder brother and uncle backed into the door. Pushing against the barricade with his shoulders, it was with the unspoken promise to get her fixed up. "Logan will be here in a minute, and then we can get you back into commission." It would take a few minutes to travel from his place down to the parking lot, so that not only gave him an advantage in terms of location, it also gave him a handful of extra minutes to have to wait for their ride. "You just gotta hold on a little longer."

Cradling the young woman with care as she fought her own battle, Sam hurried them away from the indoor pool and out into the main vestibule. Squabbling amongst themselves, he could feel that the trio responsible were watching from just outside the fire escape. Leslie and co actually had the nerve to act as if they were worried about what happened to the heiress at that point, and he would bet dollars to donuts that it was only to make him forget that they were at fault.

Assholes.

"Come on, you're a fighter, ain't cha?" Daniella had been as a baby, to get Rafe to come around. "You're gonna-"

 _And there it was_. Brought to the realization that he told the teen twice in the same breath to stay with him, to keep from saying it a third time he merely finished that train of thought by shaking the girl. With the naked eye alone he couldn't tell that she had responded, however Sam could feel the most feeble of stirrings in his arms as she rotated x-degrees inward. Heavy as she was in his arms, she... she balanced it well due to her height, limited as it was.

"You're gonna get through this, Dells."


	12. Existential Sea Shanty

**\- Chapter Eleven -**

 **Existential** **Sea** **Shanty**

Indigo speckles cut with powdered periwinkle splotches over a field of morning blue, the heiress managed to slit her eyes open. Managing was a strong term for the action, considering that a semblance of consciousness had been roused only when the world made itself known through the dim void she had found herself in. Polychromatic blur jumping to and fro as the vessel that no longer obeyed her commands was jarred, it occurred to the teen that she needed to get up. It was imperative in fact that she rise. But it was so peaceful when and where she was.

 _I am nothing._

Sight fading away faster than it came as the darkness returned to swallow her whole, the girl had one last fleeting thought, and that was that someone was holding tight to her body. Naturally her first impression had concluded that it was merely her mother in the butterscotch interior, yet that wasn't right. Concerned for future injury but not to the point that it could be called smothering, there was something about the hand wrapped around her shoulder that conveyed comfort and care. After dismissing the girl back in Sam's hotel room and confessing that an archaic business transaction was on the table, she doubted that Mama would be so inclined.

Nitpicking something so simple for no real reason at all, the angle she thought she was sitting at was all wrong for how Mama would embrace her child. Those kinds of tender moments rare for the pair, when they did actually happen Mama always held her tight to her heart. Unable to be quite sure which way was up and which was down (or if the two directions even really existed), from what the teen could gather she was laying flat, lower down to the vertical plane and using the leg of whoever was holding her as a pillow. Everything was slightly damp from being in the rain, yet the scent of detergent radiating from the pants was quite pleasant.

 _I have nothing._

Attempting to glance up at the face of her generous anchor, all she had made out before succumbing to the black embrace was a silhouette. The shape of the nose in particular stood out. Hopefully the next time she could open her eyes - or better yet willingly control her own body - she would remember the identity of her hero. It was what they deserved for their trouble, but as her mother had taught her, one rarely got they deserved in the world. Just look at her father.

"Sam, I thought that we agreed: no more hookers." Accent exotic and not quite placeable at the drop of a hat, the silken voice that drifted through the ethereal veil was accompanied in short order by a throaty chuckle and a drink being taken from a glass bottle. _Too much glass._ "In the safe house." Shifting around as if the source was moving, the same voice spoke again after a startled pause. "Well that's not your usual set, is it?"

Again with the hooker! The heiress was perhaps the furtherest thing you could get from a lady of the night, yet that hadn't done a damn thing to keep the people she was interacting with from leaping to that conclusion based solely on her association with the grizzled stranger. Brought up to have higher standards, if all the guidelines she'd ever been fed ceased to matter it wouldn't change how wrong it would have been for her to take money for companionship. Refusing to give money just for someone to pretend, there was just no way that she possessed the grit it would take to reverse the role. Although sometimes it was so lonely locked behind her ivory tower that she had to question just how proper she would be under the right circumstances...

Add in sex and the potential for a deeper emotional bond... No. Even for a span of ten plus (less?) minutes, the heiress just didn't have what it took to make another person happy. Not in that regard, nor in any other sense of the word. A common prostitute could do that much, and all she could do was cry or faint or just be the damsel masquerading as the piggy bank.

 _I contribute nothing._

Her eyes rolled underneath her sockets, and a soft whimper escaped from between cracked lips. Roaming shadows that flickered and glitched stood overhead like shrunken colossuses, discussing things in hushed whispers. She couldn't figure out who they were or what they wanted, only that they were waiting for something. Drifting in place over her own body like a soul caught in limbo, the teen attempted to break the silence between the two cosmic entities, however none of them had noticed the gesture. _It was important that they made contact._ Screaming out the only thing to come to mind, she could have cried when no one so much as glanced in her direction.

Once something had almost happened.

"Sleeping Beauty still hasn't woken up yet." For as much as the young woman watched her jailers, she had no clue if that was some kind of a code. Perhaps they were referring to herself? That seemed too much to hope for.

All the same, that remark had sounded normal enough. So did the accompanying eye-roll that followed the criminally sorry rebuttal that mixed-up two of the most classic fairy tales. It was painful for her too, but unlike the ghosts that remained out of touch, she couldn't express that. "Well maybe if we could get six of her little friends together, they could help wake her up?" It might have been that they had already exhausted all of their options, but there was just no taking it seriously when the second watcher said that like it was the answer.

Despite not having any clue what the giants gathered around her looked like, Daniella could imagine the look on other statue's face when he corrected his peer, "That's Snow White and the Seven Dwarves."

The unfamiliar voice came back again to weigh in after the second speaker was given a lesson on classic lore. Or maybe there had always been three, and the third was just beyond adding to a nonsensical debate in the first place. "I think you're both missing the real point. Those stories both had a similar fix, didn't they?"

If there had been a pause, it wasn't a very long one. "I'm not kissing anyone without their consent. If her lawyers didn't chew me up and spit me out, her mother would." The second snorted at the concept for fearing a mortal, but the look on the face of the first colossus was enough to quell any further mirth.

"Who here said that you were the charming hero in this story?" The third laughed as if it had found more humor there than what was inherently obvious. The teen was just as lost and oblivious as the first two were by the comment and subsequent chuckle, but again she was powerless to convey as much, so it was all moot.

"I'd watch that."

Clearly lifting brows that might not have even existed, it was the third immortal's turn to cringe at the tactfulness of the second. "Yes, I'm sure that you would."

After that, there wasn't anything for a long time.

Days, hours, weeks, or even moments. The heiress couldn't say with conviction how long she had been gone, only that the next time she had opened her eyes it was to find herself more alert and able to get an actual glimpse of her surroundings. _Pit-pat, pit-pat,_ rain tapped against a nearby window and added to the chorus of a consistent leak someplace out of the way. Blinking to steady her line of sight, Daniella noted that the place was a dump; extra doors and windows boarded up and a makeshift medical bay erected between a line of shelves, the newest thing in the vicinity seemed to be the sink on the opposite wall. Dirty mirror too high to make out anything clearly from her angle, the only thing reflected back was the open storage. Most of the tiered cases were housing mismatched lights that illuminated the area in a wash of bright light, but there were other things on them as well, from knickknacks to vases and antique clocks. It reminded her of every seedy hideout she'd ever read about.

Wild imagination of an avid reader taking over, the teen knew from every drama/thriller ever that it would be in her best interests to examine her last few recollections to disprove that she was the prisoner of some trafficker. Opposed to closing her eyes due to how long she'd been under as well as because of what she had read about what happened to the victims in those kinds of situations, the girl steeled herself as best she could.

 _So cold_. Skin crawling with the ghost of a shiver, the young woman remembered the pool, the boys surrounding her, the bottle being smashed against her skull. They wanted to hurt her, and there was so much pain as the liquid burst free of its container and splashed into her eyes. If she hadn't fallen into the water... Blinking her eyes once more to wash away a dull burn that she hadn't noticed prior, she realized that her vision was still coming in hazy. Trying (and failing) to keep her head and not let her mind get the better of her, she cried out in terror.

 _Am I blind?!_ Gripped by a rush of anxiety that was bubbling rapidly and escalating to unreasonable levels that left her innards in knots, the heiress practically jumped out of her skin when someone snored in response to her outburst. Asleep in an old armchair that had recently been moved to stand guard over the patient, a lank figure was posted sentry. Title impossibly tiny to make out on the spine, an old book was folded across his lap and from the looks of things about to collapse to the floor.

Mr. Drake? What was he doing there?

Hands positioned palm-up at her side and left free to roam about, Daniella twisted around to be sure that no part of her was being restrained. Once she discovered that there was nothing external to hold her back, her first move was to check to see if she was still clothed. Eyes confirming the slate sleeves as well as the dried blood staining the fabric up to the natural elbow, when her fingers fumbled their way across the expanse of her stomach she took a deep breath. For once she was glad for the shirt, only she had to wonder what had happened to her arm. It felt fine, but she didn't recall seeing any blood on the material before all of this mess. Then again, so much was going on at once that she had probably missed a great deal.

Questioning what all she had missed and what her next course of action should have been, the teen was slowly coming to the realization that she must have been saved by Mr. Drake. The most logical explanation was that he had found her and had taken her somewhere to tend to her head, but where exactly were they and who all was around? This obviously wasn't a hospital, at least not a real one that was up to code, but since she was supposed to be keeping a low profile that made sense. The young woman could have gone on to ponder how many people were privy to who she was and the situation she had found herself in, however what she really wanted to know was if Mama was there for her.

Was it really so selfish to hope that she was?

Discovering that she had been put on the table as some kind of bargaining chip disgusted her enough to want to cut all ties, but right now she just wanted her mom. They didn't need to like each other at the moment, the disappointment they both felt for the other could be dealt with any old time (assuming of course that at some point they could resume their normal lives), she just needed... What did she need? To hear that her mother still loved her? Comfort from the one continual presence in her life? Or was it simpler than that? Did she just need acknowledgment from any source at this point?

Mixed up to say the least, Daniella looked beyond Sam to the doorway. Visualizing in her mind what it would mean to strike out on her own without any kind of support whatsoever, running again was an option. Change her name and make a new life for herself. Hard as it would have been, it could have been a road to what she had always wanted. Although knowing her luck she would either end up dead in a day or forced to return to the only life she knew. Without anyone, that path meant defeat.

Off-putting as the notion was, maybe she could just end this drama now by surrendering herself over to her grandfather. That course of action would be doing the right thing by at least one person, and that way she wouldn't be putting Mr. Drake at risk. Who knew, perhaps it wouldn't even have been that terrible of an experience if she cooperated. Mama marrying men that she didn't even like suddenly made a whole lot of sense, but in their own way she supposed that her stepfathers hadn't been so awful. One of them was even pretty cool.

Without Shen, she wouldn't be the person she was now. Humble and so very patient, he had shown her to be grateful for what she had, that there were so many less fortunate than herself. In truth he had been the best thing in her life, and how had she repaid him? By reminding him at every turn that he was not her father. What a temperamental, spiteful little creature she had been.

 _"If you could be anything in the whole world, what would you want to be?"_

Wishing that he could have been there now to ask her the same question he had asked almost every day growing up, there was practically nothing she wouldn't have given to see Shen again. Back then her answer had always been the same, that she wanted to either be a pirate or an adventurer. Her father had been on an adventure looking for real pirates, and at the time she'd somehow gotten it into her mind that she could somehow find him. Now that she was quote unquote "wiser", she wouldn't have known what to say.

What did Daniella want to be? A quitter that just ran when the going got a little tough? A spineless coward that buckled at the slightest pressure? A mute little doll that could be manipulated from the shadows?

Or did she want to be someone to be proud of, a fighter that stuck the course to the bitter end? Perhaps it wasn't the standard definition of the word, but so what?! Reminded of the little girl she had once been, of the amazing influence in her life that had been snuffed too soon, of the father she couldn't remember, she had her answer. The young woman wanted to rebel against the yoke of others, to defy the expectations that her own family (among others) were attempting to place on her.

Daniella wanted to be a pirate.

Sitting up a trial in its own right, the world wavered dangerously in both color and shape as she attempted to get upright. Throbbing every time she thought about the injury, even when the teen wasn't focused on her present condition her head ached in a white-hot scream. The smallest and most insignificant of motions made her feel like she wanted to be sick, however enough time had been wasted already. She had spent more than enough time crying, years alone spent twiddling her thumbs under her ass as she sat idle, and it was too frighting a prospect to consider how much of her life had gone by in some state of fear or other. Forget that noise, now it was time to take control of her life! Unable to look back on what had happened at the pool after the bottle had collided with her cranium, forget about directly after, she was positive that she was still alive for a reason.

But where to begin? Drunk off her own bullshit and still faintly woozy, getting up seemed like as good a place to start as any. Although truth be, she still had no idea what she would do next. Waking Mr. Drake up on purpose would be plain rude. Possibly she could muster the strength to locate her mother, but the desire to be in that woman's presence was quickly evaporating. Sure, even a simple hug would have meant the world to the girl, but all the same face time with the other female wasn't something she was particularly looking forward to. Given that she had taken it upon herself to step away from the situation, there still might be merit in finishing that discussion. Also, letting her know that she was up was probably the kindest move.

Eh...

Nothing concrete at the moment, the heiress paused to reconsider. Screw her mother. Petty as it was, Daniella couldn't be sure that she could stomach speaking to the other, not peacefully at any rate. Figuring that by this point he was sufficiently caught up to speed on the web the black widow had spun, if there was something she needed to know, she could just ask Mr. Drake. Not delirious enough to believe that anyone other than her mother would have all the answers, the stranger was still obviously more in the know than the teen was.

Standing on her own two feet and taking a shaky step forward, the heiress stuck her tongue out at the door as if it were her mother. Worse occurred to her mind, however she didn't want to confuse her intention with Mr. Drake's proximity to the imaginary antagonist. _Oh, what the hell._ Daniella threw caution to the wind and flipped the sign-less exit the bird for prosperity's sake.

Childish rage somewhat subdued, the heiress took a lumbering step forward just to get her legs back. Taking another and then another until she had progressed all the way across the large (yet somehow overly stuffed) space on her own, she allowed herself a minute to pat herself on the back. It was a small feat and felt like it had taken hours, but it was a promising start. She'd already pushed herself too far just making it across the room, and her head was absolutely spinning. Also, there was no mistaking that she was winding down from all the fire she had felt upon waking up.

Feet permitting nothing more than a shuffling pace that made her sympathize for the depictions of the undead, by the time that she had made it back to the crude wooden operating table she had been left on, the girl gave her surroundings a better look. Now that she had calmed down somewhat, the teen found that her vision had recovered considerably - still not perfect, it wasn't like she ever bragged about her sight before.

Mr. Drake was resting in a chair that had clearly been moved, the drag marks visible through the grime and dust from her vantage point. If that hadn't given it away, there was also the fact of just how out of place the arrangement was. Weather still at it and pounding rain at the battered shelter, the pearly coverage made it impossible to guess the time of day. Crashing overhead at irregular intervals, the thunder and lightening was doing nothing to help the conundrum. Startled by a nasty loud crackle, the heiress had noticed a basin had been set on one of the higher shelves nearest to the bench she had woken up on, and several metal instruments were left in a clear liquid (her presumption being some kind of sanitizer). Lacking a proper trash receptacle from what it seemed, there were piles of bloodied rags and used bandages left next to where her head had been. Minus the needles, the conditions reminded her of the charity work Shen had done with the homeless.

Reaching up to touch the side of her face when the afflicted flesh prickled with an unprompted roar for no apparent reason, she felt layer upon layer of thick cotton gauze. Reflecting once more on the poolside accident and the weapon of choice, there was a flash of something that happened after she had been extracted from the crushing depths. It might have just been a dream for how brief it all was, but there had been a light... Pale, either yellowish or blue, shining all around like a halo... It sounded crazy, but she recalled touching the ethereal being in vivid detail, despite the contact only lasting for a moment.

It only could have been Sam. For all her bad luck lately, so far he'd been good for her.

"For now," she whispered to herself, knowing that at some point he'd probably prove himself to be just like everyone else. It would be great to find an exception that wasn't only out for themselves, but with each passing day it was getting harder and hard to have faith in humanity.


	13. Man Is A Manuscript

**\- Chapter Twelve -**

 **Man Is A Manuscript**

Right-clicking the page to bring up a file dubbed as "Heaven's Mandate", the women selected the 'copy to' message and imported the data over to the USB she had inserted. Heaven's Mandate, apart from being the so-called right to rule, was the oh-so-clever codename the museum curator had come up with to house all the plans and schematics a thief would require to get their hands on the display in the new exhibit. Really the information could have been called 'Royal Pain In Her Ass' for everything she had to go through to get to the secure personal computer of the museum head.

"And that's that." Download finished and the job as good as complete, the dark haired beauty spun around to face the man that had hired her. Effective in any language, she flashed a dry smile before standing up, "I could act out the escape as well, but I think we've uncovered enough-" though hacking wasn't her forte, the woman was knowledge enough with technology to open up a window of the security footage, "-flaws for one day."

Part of her assault on the system had taken place in locations that wouldn't be filmed, such as the bar where she'd flirted the night prior to the fake heist with the janitor that had set up the course. It would be obvious that anyone low on the chain of command shouldn't be trusted with sensitive information, but she had still elected to prove her worth by demonstrating the fact. Other places that lacked proper surveillance included the ventilation and the ladies room, which were again normal places that any smart individual would have suspected to be prime targets. In other words, a necessary sacrifice.

Black and white not for a lack of funding, the woman watched herself shimmy through an air duct leading from the handicap bathroom to an access panel that could be fitted with a simple little device that could scramble signals and interrupt the live feed. Truthfully she wasn't entirely clear how available those little puppies were to the populace in general, but she could easily name five other professionals with similar tech in a single breath. Not that she was one to kiss and tell.

Coming forward to observe the scene were she had had to carefully tread along the service elevator to break into an outlet, the client frowned at the monitor and pressed the pause button. Body leaning close against the shapely curves of the female larcenist, hand grazing the thin fabric of her tight cinnamon top as he reached to point at the screen, thinking twice about it the curator shifted position and bumped against her. All of this before he had considered the keyboard, the client made a miserable attempt at hiding where his eyes fell. It was quite flattering, actually.

Innocent enough on the surface, without the visual aid of what was on the screen it would have seemed that he was just a wee bit irked by how many times his security had been outmaneuvered by an outsider. If one only cared to glance at the monochromatic screen, they could see immediately why he had chosen that moment to act. Even getting on in years, she still had an amazing ass.

"Ms. Frazer, you've done us a great favor." The accent was a tad heavy, but the man spoke great English. It was likely due to his profession, and she would bet good money that it wasn't the only other language he could speak. "Please, accept your payment with the museum's sincerest gratitude."

Chloe pressed him out of her personal space with the tips of her index and middle fingers, "I'll just take the money, thanks mate."

"Now that is indeed a shame. Are we not friends?" Observant, the curator had noted that there was a handgun strapped to her side in plain sight. He knew from the tapes how quick she could move, and he had the utmost confidence that he was faster. Pulling his own weapon from the hidden holster at his hip, she was in his sights before she had time to draw her own weapon. "Sadly we no longer require your services as we have already hired another _professional_ to finish what you started. Yet I was so looking forward to getting to know you better."

Ross to thank for her next move, though she sincerely doubted that he would pull the trigger from the interactions they've previously had, the woman still erred on the side of caution and took another step towards the door. "I'll just see myself out then."

"Yes, I think that that would be best. My old heart can't take a moment more of the cruel temptation that is your beauty."

All bark and very little bite, the curator was an old friend of a former acquaintance that had previously hired her a handful of times, each job only entailing a fraction of a piece that fit into a bigger puzzle. Last time she had been brought in around the middle of a job - coincidentally enough just as Drake was being escorted out - and as she learned the following night only so much of what she contributed was used in the final defensive. To his credit, it was a smart move to hire multiple cheats and pickpockets so that no one had the entire security plan mapped out.

"Until next time, yeah?" As with that contract, she was being paid good money to run a mock trial to cover any blind spots to ensure that that wouldn't happen. Too bad more people weren't this paranoid, or she'd be getting paid twice as much.

Inclining his head, the curator allowed her to depart with one last lingering peek, "Fare well, Ms. Frazer."

Odd jobs for odd people. But with less work coming her way now that there were so many younger models in the field to chose from, she wasn't about to get picky about how she got her payday. Cutting out travel expenses (which naturally included hitting the nearest bar to celebrate another successful gig), this would more than cover her ass for the next couple of months. Several, if she was smart. Anyways, anything was better than having to turn to online piracy like some of her peers. There just wasn't any sport in that, so unless the proverbial belt had to be tightened that much, why bother?

Charlie rang up just as she was about to pull out of the museum parking lot.

"Hello, love." It was a standard enough greeting, too simple to read into it. After what had transpired last week in Concordia, it was safer to not put too much into things. Besides, one never knew when the line was being tapped and conversations no longer were private. Charlie understood that, surely.

Glass tinkling in the background, it was tough to say if the man was at a pub or doing his own dishes. If it were the former, she was jealous that he was already able to relax, and if it were the later Chloe wished that she could have been there with her camera to take a picture. "Took ya long enough, mate. Been getting calls off the hook from you-know-who about you-know-what. I'm half-considering changing my number."

He did, but sounded none too pleased by her nonchalance. Or perhaps he was hearing her impatiently thrumming her fingers against the sleek leather steering wheel and mistook her eagerness at the notion of a back roads joyride for annoyance. Truth be, if there was a reason to be short-tempered with her colleague, she couldn't recall what it would have been. Looking at things from his perspective, she supposed that she couldn't blame him for coming to that conclusion, however that was just the way things had to be. Unless of course she was just over-thinking the whole thing and he was merely on about either Nate or Elena hounding them about Cassie's birthday. It wasn't cute the first time, and now it was just getting plain old. Although she understood to a degree why Elena was making such a fuss.

"I'm actually just about to leave." By now she could have been halfway to the place downtown, or even seated at the counter if traffic was favorable. "As for your little dilemma, I got mum and dad off my case way back. I don't think my present is going to make her parents too happy, but what kind of aunt would I be if I didn't get the birthday girl something that made her parents cringe?" Cassie was a good kid and would probably accept whatever she was given with grace, but it was always fun to watch her parents squirm when they had to explain why they were taking the gift away for a few years.

Charlie snorted, "Only you could find something to top last year."

Nate practically died on the spot when he saw his ex's gift to his young daughter, and not from laughter. Screen cap still the background on her phone (on days she wasn't bored and scrolled through the contents for fun), the look on his face was priceless and worth every punishment Elena doled out. What made it even better was the fact that she had been followed up by the girl's actual uncle presenting the preteen with the same exact thing her father had ended up getting. That fizzle far overshadowed the stigma of her own present.

"What are you getting her then, if you're so bloody perfect?"

Better able to resist the temptation to torture Elena and Nathan through their daughter, Charlie's present was like to be practical, but still something that one would actually enjoy getting. Knowing the person he was shopping for, he had a knack for figuring out just the thing before he even got the payment information down - in fact, he was so spot on that his was always the present Chloe most looked forward to on her own birthday.

Shit, that was a good gift. Eyes brightening with just the lightest touch of envy as she briefly paused to muse what it must have been like to have so many that loved unconditionally from the start, Chloe shook the hollow pangs away and resumed her thrumming. It didn't do to dwell, she was a big girl now. "Well it won't traumatize her parents, but I suppose that she'll thank you for it."

"Glad you approve." They were beyond admitting to one another little things like the fact that he had only called to get her opinion before grabbing the present, but it wasn't hard to guess.

"So, Chloe," ripping the woman out of her reverie and bringing her smack right into the middle of the same sorts of messes that his younger brother had a penchant for starring in, Sam Drake had the audacity to snatch the bottle out of her hands, "please tell me that you know a thing or two-"

Rude of him to just steal away her rum like that, being stressed from the threat of his deal going belly up before it could even get off the ground was no excuse. "I do. But you'll never know about that, mate." She and Sam never had - nor would they ever - that kind of relationship, but it was still fun to mess with him. The Drakes just made it too easy! "Not for all the rum in the world, Casanova."

Too smart to not understand the reference, he was still at a loss for why she would chose now of all times to make that kind of a crack. Hands shaking just as bad as they had when he and Nathan were closing in on the islands that led to Libertalia, there was no nicotine to calm them, Victor was MIA, the surfer was still trying to get in a private word, the booze was too warm for his taste (although at least there was something to drink), and the girl was by far even worse at making him worry than his little brother ever had been. The brunette would have known if he had said something to leave the impression that he had come on to her, so the Aussie must have been making a dig at the fact that he had been spending so much time at the side of the heiress. If that was the case, he found the opinion to be in poor taste - there was nothing suspect about sticking by a sick child that was on the mend and had no one else there for them.

"-about patching head wounds?" Tilting his head to the side with a queer look on his face, he took a throaty swig before passing it back a good ounce too light. It crossed his mind to spill the rest of the golden contents on the ground, but aside from being the kind of jackassery that certain former affiliates would pull, that would have been counterproductive to his own interests.

Head wounds were a tricky business at best, and in her long career there thankfully hadn't been too many encounters with that particular malady, so there really wasn't much she could say. Wrap the injury tight, clean of the affected area when practical, keep the bandages changed; so long as the teen was unconscious it was impossible to improve the current treatment. From what the getaway driver could tell, that girl appeared to be getting the best available treatment.

"Can't say I can help you there either, mate." Rum swishing around in the glass container and getting less and less voluminous as they passed it to and fro, there was only one thing she could think to do to kill the time. "But this ought to help."

Rotating the bottle in her hands thoughtfully before bringing it to her lips, the dark-haired temptress took a sweet sip from the amber liquid and let it wash down the back of her throat before licking away the additional drops that collected at the corner of her mouth. Charlie told her once that she had a bad habit of over-sexualizing everything she did to the point that it didn't even matter who was in the room with her. She wondered if he wasn't wrong about that... Technically he hadn't been the first to bring it to attention, merely the latest.

 _Oh, Charlie._

Everyone seemed to have that one person that they could depend on, could get into the absolute worst of brawls with and still walk away as close (if not closer) as ever. For her that seemed to be a toss up between Nadine and Charlie, and Nate obviously had Elena, but who was there for Samuel Drake at the end of a life-threatening ordeal? Obviously he was close with his brother and had Victor, but she didn't want to contemplate the depths of those relationships. No, what she wondered as she slid a little further away from reality was if her comrade had someone close that could be trusted to take a bullet and then snog. Ideally it would go beyond that, however she wasn't about to tell anyone how they ought to live their life.

"I get wanting to make sure that she'll be okay, but why are you making such a big fuss over that girl? I could offer you a job right now that could pay just as well, so what is it that's making this so personal for you?" Perhaps that was something coming from the same woman that declared she was done running and willingly risked her own life for an entire village full of people, however that had been her turning point. For Sam, so far as she knew, that hadn't happened yet. Sure there were talks about him and Sullivan leaving the business for good, but she never believed that the ex-con's heart was in it, not for a single moment.

 _What was keeping him around?_

Truthfully there were a few things that the veteran thief could have told the woman to satiate her curiosity, could have told anyone that asked, but he was still trying to figure it out for himself. Whatever he had thought he shared with Rafe had died on that island, and there was never anything more between him and Bai than a few meaningless tumbles, so it was highly unlikely that he was so invested in saving their daughter for the sake of the past. As for the promise of Chloe cutting him in on more generous deal, that was a distinct possibility, yet even knowing the odds of success in this case, it was worth sticking it through to the end. All the same, that didn't mean anything for what kept him glued to the girl's side while she was in recovery.

Able to explain only fractions of the overall reason, the blonde kept approaching the former convict half-heartedly in an effort to strike up a conversation that would ultimately lead up to his involvement. Being rid of Logan not quite as high on his list of priorities as he made it sound in the scheme of things, it would have been better to just get it over with so that the surfer could get on his merry way, yet he'd proven to be useful so far. The one time he almost let it happen, Sam was just too distracted to listen. He thought he heard something about responsibility and doing the right thing, but even if he had been up to paying attention those ideals would have just made him roll his hazel eyes.

Lips whistling over the rim, she was watching him attentively. Chloe wanted an answer so badly that she was even willing to share to help ply it out of him. "Go on then."

Cautious of what trap was being laid for him, Samuel took the bottle and an additional swig, but he still was no wiser about his own motivations. The silence stretched on as he nursed away his inhibitions - it wasn't his intention to get all touchy-feely with Dr. Frazer, he just wanted to not have to think at all. Unfortunately before he could get to that point, he'd have to get to a place where blurting these things out was less of a concern and more of a certainty. It was all well and fine for others to bear their soul, but he didn't savior being smashed against the stones for the first passerby to pick up the pieces.

"When I saved her," belching as he offered the woman the medicine to all the world's problems, Sam felt less like he was talking to a friend and more like he was in confession, "in the pool, she was so delicate." Remembering the way the heiress had felt in his arms, he was prompted to continue as the walls crumbled around him one by one, "The only time I saw something so fragile was... when my mom died..." A memory floated from the haziest depths of the darkness to the forefront of his mind, but he didn't want to see it again. It was too painful. "..."

Nate rarely had ever mentioned his past to her, no matter how drunk he'd gotten, so she could only imagine how closed off Sam was on the topic. Sparing her friend what she could, Chloe pointed out the positive of the situation, "She can't be that fragile if she pulled through this whole mess." Despite Sam missing it, the girl had woken up for a small time and had even managed to get some solids down on her own. She had been too weak to speak much, but the danger seemed to have passed from what they reckoned. "Granted, it was barely, but what matters is that she'll see another day." _Face contorting with emotion that he would never speak, Chloe realized once again that_ _Nadine was right: I am a selfish dickhead._

Grateful for the shift, they had spent too much time on the topic of the conversation to drop it entirely. Since Logan hadn't been sworn to secrecy, it wasn't technically much of a secret, however that didn't make it seem like any less of a confession when he confided, "It was the damnedest thing, but my boy," effect of the rum getting more powerful and more pronounced, it seemed a foolish waste of effort to avoid the inevitable truth, "he told me that when I drove us up here, she called out for me. For me. Maybe that's why I feel so responsible for her." Yeah, no, he just didn't like that word.

There was something to that theory, she could admit, but when her fellow thief voiced his thoughts her mind raced straight to the alternative. "Or maybe you should just pay her a proper visit when she's up and about. I can keep your little mini-me busy for twenty minutes." Did she wink? Because it felt like she winked.

Again, really? The girl was just that, a girl! "You're unbelievable. She-"

"Yes, yes, she's only a minor and barely older than your niece." Chloe almost referred to Cassie as she normally did, as everyone's collective niece, however this time her point would have been better appreciated by her audience if she kept it technical. Waving it off, as the teenager was close enough to adulthood this was an appropriate talk to have. "Do the both of you a favor and put that all aside for a moment. There isn't a little part of you that doesn't want to...?" Trailing off, she smiled suggestively.

Blood coursing to a simmer, the grizzled brunette didn't care if she was a woman or not - if Chloe even mentioned that Dells was a replica of an old flame, he swore to Christ he was going to punch her in her smug face. He went head-to-head with Nadine when the situation called for it, and this was no different. "I'm not having this conversation."

Chloe, on the other hand, was very interested in having the conversation. In fact she was quite keen to see where this was going to go, although judging from his reaction, she had a good guess. "Oh, come on, it isn't that hard to just admit that if she were a little older, you'd be all over her, is it?" Seeing that he wasn't budging on the issue, she smirked, "It is that hard for you to admit!"

"I'm not having this conversation." Repeating himself, a darkness crept across his face.

"Fine, not another word, mate." Chloe wasn't done with this, not by a long shot. She had seen what the elder Drake was capable of first-hand, but the rum had long since eroded trivial things like better judgment. Getting up from one of the four cots that had been forced into the low-ceilinged space, the woman moved with a memorizing sway to get rid of the empty bottle. For the life of her, she couldn't say who had gotten the last drop, but she did know who was going get the last word. "Now I see why you won't cut the surfer loose - you need the distraction to keep yourself busy."

Arm lashing out with lightening speed, the rebuttal would have been more intimidating if Sam hadn't hit his head on the rusted crossbeams when he rose. Stumbling through air and with nothing else to catch his fall, his only option had been to grab Chloe. Dragged down before she realized what was happening, somehow his hand had gone from her wrist to the curve of her back. Peering down into his eyes, breath hitching in her chest when she studied the flecks of cooper that contrasted with the teal-gray, she pushed his hand off and rolled off the man.

Refusing to look in his direction, Frazer instead moved into a sitting position that left her staring at the doorway. The bedpost was digging her her back at the angle she had taken, and her head was being bowed forward by the stack of blankets and sheets that had seen better days, but it was still more comfortable than straddling her ex's brother. "If that's your game, I think you'll have better luck next door."

Unknown to the pair, they were being watched by a pair of blue eyes. While it was one thing to hear Mr. Drake start to open up about his own mother drama, listening to the two going on about whether or not he had any deeper interest in the heiress was getting to be too much for Daniella. Slinking off before she was discovered lurking in the doorway, she backtracked to the medical bay. Glancing around the room, she decided to bang against the sink and counter on her way back out to alert them that she was up.

 _Oh. My. God. OhmyGod, ohmygod, ommigod,_ practically hyperventilating even in the depths of her mind, the heiress just couldn't wrap her head around the exchange between Mr. Drake and Ms. Frazer.

 _He..._


	14. Dirt And Diamonds

**\- Chapter Thirteen -**

 **Dirt And Diamonds**

Ear so close to the door that getting a splinter was an inevitability, the woman couldn't hear anything on the other side, but that didn't mean that she could relax. Arms feeling itchy like something was crawling up her skin beneath the crisp fabric of her stark white dress shirt, it took all that remained of her attention and will power to stay in control and remember that there wasn't. Palms to the wood so that they couldn't snake around to wipe away bugs that weren't there, not pressing too hard was another fine line she was skirting. She couldn't say that she had ever personally been victim of getting caught like in come dumb sitcom, however the bespectacled coordinator had recently discovered that the doors around this place had a way of just giving in...

As of late she suspected that Mr. Adler was biding his time, waiting to catch her slip up just once. So far her record spoke for itself, but she feared it was becoming obvious that she was losing perspective on what was work and what was personal. How could she not be terrified of the repercussions when what little free time she alloted for herself was still spent around her employer's son? Rafe Adler didn't need a bodyguard by any means, and many felt that hiring on a meek little woman to tail him around was a fair compromise, however it hadn't taken long for her eyes to rove and her interests to align less with what his parents asked and more towards what the young man wanted.

Stomach growling to remind the woman that it was still there - if only barely - she ignored the rumbling and willed herself to be closer.

Torture having to endure the snide comments and snickers, it was even worse watching him just stroll passed like she wasn't anything more than the furniture. It was what she was being paid for, but these days it felt like the only part of her job description that was being honored - Bai had stopped reporting every breath the multi-billionaire took, and not only had she began to covertly mule for the son but had hid, omitted, and downright lied to her boss. She tried to tell herself that it was because she had faith in Rafe's goals and found him to be a better leader, but she was only lying to herself at that point.

Gorgeous, blonde, and everything that she wasn't, the flavor of the night was really only there to set up some kind of deal, however only a complete imbecile couldn't see that there would be more than an agreement and a changing of hands. Ordinarily Bai had a tolerance of about three cracks before she snapped, however tonight was different. Clawing the sides of her arms as she gave in to the imaginary itch, the lack of food was making her nauseous, which in turn was making her irritable. Too much time had passed between doses, and as a result she had ripped into the doorman when his only offense had been asking her if she was alright.

Tonight, she only had a limit of two personal attacks. Names not a common thing around there, on the drive back to the estate the fling had hit just the right button by inquiring if it was frustrating having to stand idle and listen to Rafe making time with literally everyone else but her. When Bai had deigned to respond to that, the blonde had rubbed it in her face by smirking as she pawed at the icy-eyed young man. Frankly he seemed uninterested in the whole thing, but the sight of him being touched by another rankled worse than any omniscient jab could.

Bai's response had been to cut the other female down by pointing out her physical flaws before they could retreat into room. Once the morning came, the real vengeance would come she made the accusation of the harlot being a common kleptomaniac in addition to a trollop. The beautiful thing was that as the head of security, she had the power to erase undesirables and very rarely had to answer for it.

Surprising both women when he elected to speak up, before retreating into the privacy of his room Rafe had stopped to thank Bai. Running her team ragged to prepare for the grand party that would close out the week, security had been extra tight, but never in her wildest dreams would she have expected the young man to address her directly in front of company. More shocking still was him inquiring if she might come speak to him once the blonde left. That ruffled the strumpet.

Left with a smile, as she waited for the appointed time to come the joy had been replaced with dread. What if it was only to berate her for some wrong she didn't realize she had done? It could have just as easily been to have her test out the latest batch that was going into circulation at the start of the following month, however even considering the risks that would have been too good to be true. When he gave her her cut at the end of the night there was never any preamble, and tonight he had explicitly requested her to come by. Perhaps he had at long last caught on to the pathetic way her eyes would follow him around the room and was merely showing pity when he presented the invitation. Speaking of invites, it was most likely to do with his birthday. _Of course it was only going to be about the party._

Right?

Fingers rubbing the sides of her arms, by the time the blonde had been sent away to slink off to hide beneath whatever rock she had crawled out from underneath, Bai was getting desperate. She had had all night to partake, yet she didn't. Despite the attraction she was (not so) secretly harboring in her breast, there was still the ingrained sense of duty that kept her relatively clean on the clock. Sure, there were times that she had failed miserably and lost herself in the snowfall, and the more she did the harder it was getting to hold off, but she knew had to see him later. If she got high before the meeting, the chances of her trying something on him shot up considerably. In fact it had probably already happened and she had been so mortified that her mind had been wiped of the incident, but her restraint was wearing thin and the cycle was gearing up to come back around.

Eyes like sapphires darting back and forth at voices that weren't there - most of which jeered her every decision - she strolled into the room as if she owned the place. That would never happen, but when it came to her job the woman had never lacked for a show of bravado. "Rafe?" Calling out for the young man as to not catch him off guard and earn a bullet hole, she felt inclined to remind him that he had wanted to see her, "I'm here."

Head tilted back as he stared up at the ceiling, he motioned over to the woman for her to join him on the circular white leather couch. Breathing softly, if he hadn't moved his hand to gesture her forward, Bai would have thought that he was asleep. Lounging there in a tight navy shirt that clung to his lean muscle, a part of her wished that he had been... although if that had been the case, she couldn't be certain that she wouldn't have taken advantage of the situation.

Glad that he wasn't underage, she shoved her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and approached the sofa. They were a bit too bulky for her taste, but she'd gotten positive feedback on the look, so she had opted to stick with it. "You wanted to see me?"

Fingers playing the notes to Portishead's "Glory Box" on an imaginary grand piano, Rafe continued to stare up at the vaulted ceiling. In the gloom before the dawn, there was no knowing for sure what the top of the room looked like, only that it was as far away as the sky outside. What he was seeing on the domed canvas was known only to him, but whatever it was, he seemed to be in a good mood.

"I've been watching you." Moving only his lips to form the individual letters, for how relaxed he was it sounded like the words had been carefully rehearsed. "You're a hard one to read." Concise as his words were, a lot of care had been taken to chose just the right phrases to use. Bai didn't think she was worth his time, due solely to the fact that he had never before gave any indication that she was more than a necessary evil to endure. "You turned down my father when he offered to buy you your own place."

That? Bai had spent a considerable amount of time getting to where she was, and even though in an ideal world she would stay with the family until the end, she knew better than to be owned. Mr. Adler was notorious for finding every last possible way to buy his high-level employees to ensure that they were less inclined to double-cross him. Growing up she had been property, so it was not a role she wished to repeat. Instead, to demonstrate her fealty she had reached a compromise to rent one of the countless guest rooms in the estate. The proximity to her ward was a happy stroke of luck, due entirely to Mrs. Adler masquerading her own fears of her husband's roving eye as concern for her son.

Details of the arrangements between the philandering Lothario and the leggy immigrant all made verbally, Rafe had been unable to uncover a paper trail that painted the picture of who Bai was. Planting surveillance in her room and having the head of his security team followed covertly hadn't yielded any meaningful discoveries that he deemed to be particularly relevant. Down the line, perhaps he could manipulate the fact that the woman rented a storage space near the docks and received frequent payments for hair and other regular donations.

For now, he had to acknowledge that words were cheap and couldn't be depended upon - he needed to know if she was on his level through her own actions. About to explain her reasoning for refusing the standard housing agreement to Rafe, he interrupted her before she had the chance, "I have something for you." As he had been taught from watching his mother, there was nothing a woman loved more than receiving expensive gifts.

Automatically her line of sight darted to the rows of man-made starlight at his side. Want and need one in the same at that stage, her tongue rolled across her teeth at the thought of getting lost in all that quality product. He noticed the way her demeanor shifted at his words, that her nostrils flared and her shaking became a continuous shiver. Amused by how intensely she thought she required the drug, though it wasn't the gift had had in mind, it was within his power to give her her fix.

"How badly do you want it?" Enthralled by the prospects, he sat upright and beckoned his glorified babysitter to come join him, to not stand so far back as she attempted to keep up the illusion of being professional when in fact she was cracking at every edge. Obeying without a second thought, when she approached the sofa he stopped her from sitting down by snatching her wrist. "First things first."

Grip tight and with no indication of letting up, he guided her to his knee; understanding his meaning Bai didn't object when her hand was dragged along the clinging material of his dark jeans and up the seams of his thigh. Quieter than she would have expected, there was a tug in her navel urging her to pull away, the paranoia feasting in her mind at every turn chiming in to tell her that this could have been a test. _And if it was?_ Conditioned to believe that this was all wrong, the larger part of herself knew that there was no reason to deny what was about to happen when it was being offered on a silver platter. Besides, they always said that it felt better when it was forbidden.

Chest tightening as the anticipation mingled with the hesitation that came with fearing this was only a hallucination, Bai distantly saw her palms tremble and start to sweat as she reached out to use his shoulder to steady her decent. Elbows offering nothing in terms of resistance as she glided through space and time as if in a dream, she jumped when the air conditioning kicked to life, her neck craning around for a second look. She could have screamed at herself for peeling her gaze off of the multi-billionaire, off the waiting lines of coke that were plentiful enough to write out her name. This was all she desired and nothing she deserved.

Zipper in her grasp and a mere motion away from giving with the slightest pull, Rafe paused the young woman by hooking a finger beneath her chin. Tilting her head back into the light, he was surprised to see that in the midst of all the storming shades of cobalt in her iris there were also islands of lush jade. "That's too easy. I want you to use your teeth."

About to remove her glasses so that she needn't worry about damaging them in some way, he shook his head to stop her again. "Leave them on."

Well, as her health plan was so good she supposed that she could always purchase another pair if need be. Dropping her shoulders with a roll that momentarily accentuated the cleavage visible from his position on high, the woman crossed her arms behind her back so that she wasn't tempted to use them again, as that was something he clearly had no current interest in. Just as she was beginning to wonder which of the two items on the sofa was controlling her actions more, the icy eyed young man was hit with an idea.

"Turn around for a moment."

Simple as the command was, she wasn't sure that she understood. A million and one horrible things running through her mind, stealing another glance at the powder on the cushion Bai did as she was told and pivoted around so that she was facing the line of black-and-whites on the far wall. Under the best of circumstances the subject matter was unsettling to the average person, but the collection only served to enhance the crawling blush she could feel spreading up her face as her arms were bound by his belt. Leather tight and cutting into her flesh, whatever misgivings she had were quickly replaced by arousal. _Did he know that she liked this sort of thing, or was it merely coincidence?_

Back facing him before he could give the order, he was conflicted about whether or not he approved of her taking the initiative. He certainly enjoyed what came next.

Tip coated in a chunky layer of white rocks, her nose was trickling a steady scarlet line the next time her head surfaced for air. Floating on cloud nine and feeling invincible, were it not for the fact that her hands were still bound she would have turned the tables on the boy and showed him exactly why he'd be crazy to ever walk away from her. Licking her lips at the look on his face, on second thought she still just might teach him that lesson...

Pleasure out of the way, that only left business to attend to. Unable to find the weight necessary to stand up by himself at the moment, once she had gotten her fill of the early winter and was no longer quivering like a leaf caught in a strong breeze from the withdrawal, he directed her attention to the gift bag perched atop the edge of his writing desk. The package had been sitting there for the past three days, and frankly it was getting tiresome looking at the striped tissue paper. "For you."

Baffled blind by all the generosity she was experiencing in one night, the woman cautiously edged to the workspace as if the gift waiting on top of the table contained a bear trap. Shimmering even in the harsh lighting of the candy apple desk lamp, the outer bag was stamped with the unmistakable logo of Mrs. Adler's favorite jewelery store. An ordinary man would either be using the package secondhand or as a mean-spirited joke, but Rafe was anything but ordinary.

Bear trap still a distinct possibility, the bespectacled dope fiend fumbled with the narrow straps as she carried the bag back to Rafe to open for her. Already knowing what was inside, he tore into the contents carelessly where she would have slowly widened the opening and tenderly pushed the tissue paper out of her way. Good or bad, it wasn't everyone that could say that they had gotten a wrapped gift from Rafe Adler.

"Do you like it?" Leaning back once more to ask the question, he quirked his mouth in a self-satisfied smirk when she saw the necklace. Letting out a little gasp that eclipsed the last time anything had done it for her, he could only assume that she was speechless and in love with it. "I want you to wear it Saturday." It went without saying that this was how she would prove to him that she supported his ambitions.

Exquisite and something that you would only see on the richest of the rich or in a movie, a necklace of no less than a hundred tiny diamonds sparkled within the velvet box. Even if it had been fake, it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. He easily could have sprung for jewels bigger than her fist and still had pocket change to burn, but he listened when she commented glibly on his mother's anniversary portrait. Anything bigger than two karats was just ostentatious and an invitation for the wrong sort of trouble. _He listened to me. He actually had listened when she thought she was talking to air!_

Her heart caught in her ribcage. "I can't accept this."

Face contorting as he tried to wrap his head around the alien syllables that had just escaped from her lips, Rafe had to suddenly wonder about the enthusiasm and gusto behind her actions fifteen minutes ago. If she had just been using him to get her hands on the blow, he had truly mistaken the type of woman she was. Reviewing the kinds of things Bai kept around (his assumption being to entertain herself with on lonely nights), the illegal footage she had taken of him without his consent was completely at odds with the words coming out of her mouth now. She wanted him - all of him - so why she wasn't jumping at his gesture and twisting it in her head to mean something more than it did was... well, unexpected.

Necklace a means to get a better read on the woman and what it was that she was really after (attraction only went so far, so finding worn out VHS tapes of himself as the star had only factored in to his calculations so much), the real trial wasn't set to begin until she took it back to her room. Would she wear it as per his request, would she struggle over the gift and what it entailed, would it occur to her to 'lose' the rocks and hide the truth by claiming that the party was too casual an event for something so expensive? There were a thousand and one micro reactions he had expected to spend the rest of the week analyzing, but this was not in any way a part of his plan.

"No." Afterglow faded to a half-forgotten ember, the newly minted treasure hunter yanked the woman forward by the first thing he could reach. "You can't tell me no. You're going to take the necklace."

Thumb and index tight on her jaw, he shoved her all the way back against the bland leather on the opposite side of the product he was testing. Exposed throat just begging for it, murdering the woman and leaving her corpse for the authorities would have been no skin off his back, but at present this coke was truly one-of-a-kind. The unforgettable kind of eyes that could haunt a man, her natural sapphires glittered up at him as if she were begging him to do it. He could have done it easily and with no remorse, but he wasn't in the business of rewarding insolence.

Bai wanted to accept the diamonds, she really did, but she didn't trust herself. Words failing her, she had no way to show him how much it meant to her that he had already given her more than she could ever require, that she would have worn the colorless gems with pride every day until she died. Couldn't he see that her control was slipping - after what she just did for him, for the blow, it was obvious that it was long gone by this point - that she ran the risk of selling the shirt off her back for another hit? It was only a matter of time before the addiction became too powerful and she became lower than dirt.

Rejection a bitter and unfamiliar taste in his mouth, Rafe interpreted her refusal as loyalty to his father. Maybe he really had misread her this entire time. "I'll give you time to reconsider." Allowing her up, he motioned for her to spin around so he could have his belt back. "Best remember who you really belong to."

"I know who I belong to." Rubbing her wrists to help the blood flow return to normal faster, she grabbed the velvet box before leaving, "Now it's only a question of why."

Week passing in a chaotic blur that left the woman very little time to herself, when Bai wasn't staring down the velvet box as if it killed her mother she was working on her resignation. The same morning that Rafe had given her the necklace, she had gone straight to speak to his father about quitting her current post, but he refused her request on the grounds that even if the house wasn't so preoccupied with setting up the celebration, she was too good at her job. In no uncertain terms, he told her that she would have to royally screw up to get that transfer. Contemplating whether or not she should tell him about what had happened with his son, she only wanted to be moved away from the situation, not dead. Although it was all a moot point when Rafe would hunt her down if his father didn't just have her executed on the spot.

 _"Now it's only a question of why."_

Hounded by her own words, she sat alone on her bed the night of Rafe's party and fiddled with the sheer stockings she was going to wear. As the head of security, it was expected of her to poke her head in to be sure that everything was copacetic; she couldn't hide in her room forever. It was awfully tempting though.

Everything was already laid out for her to put on, and the necklace was still resting in the box on her nightstand where she left it. It felt like the jewelery was always mocking her with its very presence, yet at the same time she liked to keep it close by. Strictly speaking there was no set dress code for the event, so odds were that she was going to be overdressed either way. Rafe preferred a more classic look she knew, but he would have been content enough with anything so long as she wore the diamonds.

Swinging the nude-tone nylon through the air as she lounged on the bed in her most sultry lingerie, Bai really wasn't in a rush to face the man. Groaning to herself when the thigh-high hose flew out of her hand and landed someplace on the eggshell carpet, the more she thought about her prediciment, the more she came to realize the why, although she was not going to admit it to him. He had enough power over her as it was, he hardly needed more.

Time ticking by as she procrastinated, the responsible part of he brain knew that she really should have started to get dressed, however that would require her to get up off the bed. Coke already screwing with her mind more than she could bear, though she had always been attracted to Rafe, after their previous encounter she knew that she didn't have the strength to hold back. But did she really have to? For better or worse things were changing for them, and that scared her more than anything else.

Eyes once more going to the velvet box at her side, the woman rolled over (careful of the hair naturally) and picked it up. It felt heavier in her hands each time she held it, just like her heart when she thought of the way she had declined the present. Already it was the best thing she would ever receive, and she meant that from the bottom of her heart.

Admiring the diamonds as each one caught the light and reflected it back, she moved to the vanity to put the necklace on. By all rights she should have slipped into her dress first, but being a strapless number she didn't foresee too much of a problem. Stones cold to the touch and equally breathtaking to behold, as they pressed against her bare skin she wondered if he had only given her the jewelery to wear so she could look beautiful when he killed her. He had been so close that night, it made sense that he had only held off for a better moment. Honestly he was hard to read at times, but if that was what he wanted...

"I don't think I can just give him my life like that." Forlorn in her confession, Bai turned around from the vanity to peer at the blonde. Normally she had the trash sent to her special place on the docks, but this bitch had struck a nerve and that wasn't something that the bespectacled security head couldn't let slide. Crouching down at the space behind the bed, she ran her ring finger over the rope binding the blonde, her pinky tracing along the edge between braided cord and dimpled chin. "I would live my life for him without hesitation, but I'm not yet at a point where I can die for him without a second thought." Playing with a loose strand of the other woman's hair, she curled it around her fingers all the way up to the tawny root. Leaning in to whisper into the shell of her guest's ear, she flash a sadistic smirk before yanking out a yellow chunk, "I hope he likes his gift."

However the night ended, someone was going to die.

Blowing the distraught and openly sobbing fashionista a kiss before turning to pick up her fallen stocking, Bai tossed the bloodied strands back at the woman. Bending along the satin-skirted mattress with her back to the door, her manicured digits fumbled blindly through the shadows for the hosiery. Hearing the door creak open, she froze. If it was one of her men coming in to disturb her with anything less than an emergency, heads were going to roll. If it was her employer or his spouse... that just would have been strange. But she didn't need to look to know that it was Rafe.

Rising slowly to allow herself a second to gather all of her confidence and don it place of the cover she lacked, the woman turned to face him with her head held high and the jewels on full display. "You did wear it."

Not sounding surprised in the slightest, Rafe nodded at the woman in approval and deftly closed the door at his back so that they were completely alone. Swelling with the sounds of a party that would live in infamy for years to come, the late nineties dance music was blaring through the walls and the pig in the corner was whimpering through the numerous ties, but for all of that they may as well have been the only two in the world.

Meeting each other at the foot of the bed almost by accident, he reached out to touch her. She thought that the young man was only going to grab one of the diamonds to put an emphasis on his point, but he went straight passed them as if they weren't there. His hands were warm on her bare shoulders, but his touch sent a shiver down her spine that resonated with the fluttering in her gut. "Something told me you would."

"...I had to. Because you told me to." It was so much deeper than that, than a bond between a thug and the ringleader, than an addict and a dealer, than an itch that was tough to scratch. As she'd confided to her captive in the corner throughout the week, she would live the rest of her life for that man, on his terms. It wasn't just lust, just the way he spoke, it was everything - the way he could outmaneuver just about anyone else in the room, the way he observed his surroundings to his own benefit, the way he dirtied his hands.

Mistrustful of her motivations on the surface only at this point, he tilted his head at her, "Is that the only reason?"

Of course it wasn't! Peeking through her lashes at the circles his thumbs were rubbing into her shoulders, Bai made up her mind and just went for it, leaving no space whatsoever between their bodies when she lunged. Naked calves brushing against the material of his pants as his knee came between her legs, they felt twined at the hips and torso. Heat spiraling through the air and washing over their lungs as their mouths battled for dominance, the wires in her Victoria's Secret cut deep as he tried to pull her into himself. Wen Bai was no longer her own, not now that they were negotiating this new contract.

Pout vanishing the instant she aggressively met his lips, she whispered the words into the kiss in the hopes that he wouldn't hear. _You know why too._

Stained bronze from the lipstick she had been wearing, he pushed her away, but not because he was rejecting her. Rafe had heard everything she said and did in her room, every gentle murmur in the mirror and every squelching crunch as she cut into the middleman stuffed behind the bed. He knew beyond the shadow of a doubt from the first time she opened the box to try the necklace on, although hearing the words spoken out loud he figured that he had always known. The icy eyed multi-billionaire wanted her to say them to his face.


	15. To Have And To Hold

**\- Chapter Thirteen (And A Half) -**

 **To Have And To Hold**

Engine idling as the sleek foreign model pulled up outside the warehouse, he wrung his hands in anticipation of the meeting. And partially from the autumn chill blasting mercilessly in through the busted air conditioning of his antiqued Oldsmobile, but mostly the first thing. He'd called the rendezvous on the pretense of 'bumping into a guy', knowing full well that the other man would be lured in by the prospect of finding the trinket. _Less than a rumor as it stood, for all he could care the rich prick could shove it up his ass and spin._ There was no guy, no new information on an unsubstantiated legend, it was just the only way he knew he could get the icy-eyed devil on his own.

Relatively speaking.

Peeking through the rear view mirror at the luxury European sports model the rich brat was so fond of showing off, apparently the car wasn't the only thing that had been imported. Rafe's old man had hired the freaking terminator to guard over his son - everyone knew that at this point - but he didn't realize that the multi-billionaire trusted his babysitter enough to take her along to these kinds of deals. Either there had been a new amendment to the original contract written in white or else Rafe didn't believe him when he said that he was fine with what had transpired in Bolivia.

Armed to the teeth with the mountains of evidence that supported both theories, it feasibly could have been a combination. Rafe Adler didn't seem to be particularly picky about the company he kept - if he took a shine to you, so long as you stayed on his good side you'd be set. Although if you were dumb enough to squander that divine glow or he just lost interest... Well, the fem-bot had the advantage of being as moody and as bat-shit as her boss/presumed lover, so on a lot of levels they made all the sense in the world. If you could call two psychos free to terrorize at will sense.

"Inhuman hussy." Furious enough to spit on a dog - which he would never do, being a staunch member of PETA - the ginger-haired antiques mover grabbed the revolver from the passenger seat. Due to the nature of his job, the model at his knee was no replica but a fully-functioning tool.

Raised by his grandfather for a majority of his life, the harmless old man who's biggest sin was cheating at cards had an unfortunate run-in with Adler and his cleavage-bearing muscle. They had been brokering a deal over a broken grandfather clock of all things. The harlot mentioned having a similar one growing up, and "being the generous sort", Rafe had decided to buy it for the woman. Initially she fought him on the gesture, but after enough insistences she buckled and accepted the gift on the condition that she be allowed to set it back at her own leisure. Grandfather had no clue what the young couple had been on about and simply wanted to make the sale, but it wasn't enough for her to receive the nostalgic reminder of home - she had to accuse the old man of trying to rip her boss off. It was a fair price, but she kept saying that it was too much, that the icy-eyed sociopath was being swindled. Growing bored of the transaction, Rafe shot the old man without warning and threw an uncounted stack of bills on the counter. Adding insult to injury, she just walked away with Adler after leaving an address to have the clock sent.

Directly equal on his list, Rafe wasn't without blame either. Discovering that the prim little rich boy had only used him to gain access to an invite-only black tie event, that stung, but learning that he was about to be replaced by Raja of all people! Urgh, just thinking the name was enough to make his blood boil! He'd worked hard on getting this all into place, and the minute that he was no longer useful to Rafe, he was out?! Nah-uh! Jared wasn't about to go down without a fight. He'd save that for Adler's staff.

Gun hidden away beneath the front of his quilted olive parka, Jared Holtz flashed his headlights into the side of the factory wall to signal that it was time. Pulling his key out of the ignition with only a moment of hesitation, he got his head into the game by reminding himself of who was going to benefit from this job in his place if he didn't stand up for himself. _What happens next is karma._ Getting out of his own vehicle, he grinned as he watched Rafe instructing the automaton to stay with the driver. _Good._ Her absence would only make his job that much easier!

Clearly Robo-maid had her qualms about the situation as she attempted to follow him out of the car anyways, however she couldn't find it in her circuitry to defy a direct order. Pouting about it in sullen silence, the woman left the door open but didn't get out after her ward. Frankly Jared was surprised that said charge hadn't slammed the door shut on her regardless of her insistence to remain his personal shadow. Sure the subsequent injury would have required a splint at the very least, but the android had every appearance (and supporting reputation) of enduring the pain until her master said that she was allowed to feel.

Puzzling out the extent of their relationship was enough to break even the smartest brains on the planet, so Jared hardly bothered himself. All he knew was that they had been put together by Rafe's father, that the pair were nigh inseparable due to her work ethic, that she was good friends with certain contacts of the family, so the rest wasn't difficult to guess. He had eyes to see the way they looked at each other when they thought no one else was watching. Even each other.

"You made it." Calling out to the heir of the known universe, the redhead forced a smile as he greeted the aspiring treasure hunter.

Teeth cut on scum of the underworld more threatening than the up-jumped pawn shop owner, Rafe wasn't fooled by the grin. He knew that his partner had taken the events of Bolivia to heart, and it had been him that orchestrated the leak about teaming up with Raja in the first place. It was true, but he'd been curious to see how Jared was going to handle the threat of being replaced by the person he hated most on the whole planet. Personally he expected the other man to fall on his knees and beg for a second chance to prove himself. He always liked it when they begged.

Finding humor in what was about to happen, the young man chuckled condescendingly, "Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss this for the world!" Motioning over to the bionic woman herself, he gave the signal for her to do as they planed on the drive out to the boondocks. "Right, Bai?"

Rope dangling ominously from her grasp as she slid out of the backseat, Bai cocked her head when bumping her pseudo beehive on the low roof of the car. "Ow." Apparently only driven by certain base instincts, pain was not one of them judging from the lack of emotion in her statement. Statement, not exclamation - a normal person felt things, but that creature...

 _Definitely a cybernetic organism._

Stilettos were a poor choice of footwear for the occasion, but the shoes seemed to give her the boost of confidence she required to do her job so damn well. Anyways, the only thing about her appearance that even hinted at what she did for a living was the nice dress shirts and suits - on each of the occasions they'd crossed paths, she had kept at least one other part of her body bound. The first time had been jewelery and rings, the second was a ribbed corset dress, although that had been Halloween, so that festive attire wasn't so out of place. Unable to make up his mind for the third, it was a hybrid of a choker and a shirt, he thought. Honestly, she was the kind of woman that one could envision taking a bath in heels and sleeping in skin-tight leather. Assuming that her programming allowed such menial tasks.

Master not much of an improvement over this issue of android, Jared knew that if he'd ever have a chance at correcting the situation, this would be it.

Standing up for every little guy that had ever been pushed around, the broad redhead whipped his piece out and had it cocked before her scanners could pick up the concealed item on his person. Kicking back worse than he'd expected it to, the revolver jumped out of Jared's hands as if it were sentient and could sense a more capable wielder in the immediate vicinity. Panicking at the thought of finding himself disarmed in front of a well-known executioner, he flung himself to the ground in a gesture of surrender. He had accomplished what he had set out to do, although he had hoped to manage more. Perhaps if they thought he was cooperating they might grow careless enough for him to finish what he had started...

Eyes filled with the color red, she picked up the fallen gun and turned it on Jared.

"Wait."

Command coming in clear on the bated breath of the Fall, Rafe held his waist where the bullet had entered. Forcing himself up and tearing the wound with a searing finger straight out of the darkest bowels of hell, the multi-billionaire ordered her to not make it too quick. Pins and needles stabbed with dry ice raked his innards and pulsated out in electric-like waves, _I still have this._ Gasping sharply for air that didn't want to stay in his lungs, he closed his eyes to the skyline as it faded from sight, the stars becoming one with the dozens of windows that witnessed the scene. He'd never felt anything half as detrimental. For each second that he suffered, the traitor would have to endure double, no, triple. _Why be stingy?_ Jared would know nothing less than quadruple the pain he felt now, even if it took them the rest of their lives to do it. So far as he knew, Jared didn't have any children of his own, but that was something they could always remedy.

"Keep to the plan." Holding back a cough with difficulty, he could taste iron and cooper flooding the back of his throat, but he would not show weakness. Not to some ginger dickhead, not to any of the staff that could be replaced at a moments notice, and never in front of his bespectacled manager. He was too proud, and she answered to nothing less than absolute authority.

First-rate medical care buying him the best doctors available, it was later discovered that the wound was much less severe than it seemed (the faint scar just below his hipbone could be hidden without much problem). A whole different matter entirely as it all unfolded, the woman found herself having an out-of-body experience that only ended once they were in the ER. Not directly after they arrived, the sensation dissipated after several hours of sitting wide-eyed by his side. If it wasn't her glower and gun keeping the hospital workers from pestering her about leaving, it was simply stating that she was waiting for his family to show up for him. At that point she left only long enough to shower and change; upon returning to Rafe, his parents had already gone.

Beyond the parameters of her role as protector as far as she was concerned, that was yet another clue that her feelings ran deeper than lust. Underscoring that dreaded thought was the fact that Bai hadn't inquired about overtime or any other kind of bonus.

Heart pounding so hard in her chest that she could hear her teeth clattering in her skull, Bai's first instinct after being restrained had been to shoot Jared in both legs to incapacitate him. In her employer's words, it was her duty to protect the most precious thing in her life; the bespectacled woman darted over to tend to Rafe with nary a second thought. The driver had even less of a clue about what to do in the situation - which was perfectly reasonable being new - and had simply slunk down into the seat in the hopes that he wouldn't be noticed or called upon.

Terrified of what he had gotten himself into by agreeing to show up with absolutely no back up - which for the record she had vehemently advised him against - most everything vanished from reality the moment Rafe had taken the bullet. Having said that, the thing she remembered most about that incident after the fact was how impressed she had been when he shrugged her away and had them shove Jared in the trunk. Technically speaking she had done roughly all of the heavy lifting, but that was nothing new. The Adler men were both capable of the act, there was no doubt of that by looking at either of them, it was just in her job description. Totally fired come morning, the driver might as well have not even been there.

Screaming out in unequaled agony, Jared howled continuously until Bai shut him up with a blow to the back of the head. Standing over the man as he wailed, she wondered if this was the closest he'd ever been to a beautiful woman. Knowledge that she would be the last female he ever saw for the rest of his miserable little life bringing a simper to her apricot-colored lips, the woman peered down at him in unbridled loathing. It was one thing to threaten her livelihood and a whole other to yield. Using the butt of the revolver, she took care to not hit the alarmist too hard.

Once the target had been nullified and left to cool out with the rest of the (non-medicinal) emergency gear in the back, Rafe swayed where he stood. By that time in their relationship there was no illusion about how much he hated the thought of showing his vulnerable side, however it was just the two of them. Ignoring the stamp on his forehead, the glare in his icy diamonds, and the poison leer on his lips, she wrapped her arm around the back of his torso and helped him to the backseat after sending the driver back to his post. The multi-billionaire could have managed to follow the nebulous chassis to the open interior on his own, but it was more important that he save his strength for what came next.

Assisted out of his shirt and wiggled part way from his trousers so they could see the extent of the damage, he watched her dig through the mini bar hidden in the plush cushions of the back seat for something with enough alcohol content to clean out the injury. Strawberry champaign and chardonnay not ideal, after a second, calmer search she came back with an old bottle of Jack. Aware of how badly that it was going to burn, he grabbed the nearest thing he could.

Moonlight falling silver and white through the inky midnight chasing the speeding vehicle, he seemed paler than he had a few moments ago. Stealing a swig for herself before pouring a good amount on the scarlet smear that was pooling under his navel and dribbled every time he tried to sit up, the air was cut in half by his animal howl. Concern etched across her face, Bai leaned from her cramped spot on the floor to offer him a drink as well, however he slapped the bottle away. Hating how stubborn he was being almost as much as she admired the fight in him, for the second time that night her heart tried to jump out of her throat.

Delirium a state of mind she was all too familiar with, Rafe grabbing her hand must have been the first stage of excessive blood loss. Clinging tight even after she stopped applying the makeshift antiseptic, he'd never looked at her the way he was just then. She hated herself for wanting that part to last. Squeezing so tight that her fingers were on the verge of turning purple, Bai had to think hard to remember what to do next - her own mind scattered from everything, she could only remember that in the movies the next part was slowing the bleeding.

Luxury the foremost thought that went into designing the car, medical supplies were in short supply. Glancing down at the crumpled heap on the carpet that had been his shirt, as she moved to pick it up he made the effort to shake his head. It was already stained crimson by the carmine bloom stretched across the stomach portion, however it was Armani and he wouldn't tolerate her ruining the shirt further. Paid for out of her own pocket, instead she opted to use her own knock-off Versace. Unbuttoning the solid blouse and pressing it to Rafe's abdomen to soak up the gore, even amidst all the chaos it struck her just how exposed she was. Bai had dealt with a lot throughout her career, but this...

"Just..." Just what, don't bleed to death? _Pretty sure that was probably his first and only thought at that moment, dumb ass._

Hand holding tight to the only thing anchoring him down, Rafe whispered something before she pulled away to get into the driver seat. It isn't quite a thank you, but she wouldn't have appreciated him as much if it was. Too many men these days were talky-feely and said what they meant, but she responded more favorably action and the implications of what went unsaid. It was how she had been raised.

Rafe let the monster out of her, but he did it in a way that made it feel like it was on her own terms. In one way or another she thought she had everything, until the night that changed everything.

Diamonds glittering on her throat and hanging down into heaving cleavage that needed very little padding, she delighted when he slipped his fingers between the silver strands and yanked on the lowest rock. Chain tight when he curled it around his index and middle digits, he smirked before showing her to the mattress with a springy bounce that left little to the imagination. Crawling to one knee over her trembling figure, he paused to take in the sight of the woman in her lingerie. The garter belts seemed out of place since she had yet to put on her stockings, yet he appreciated their presence all the same.

Tracing a line up her thigh to the low cut lace that just barely covered her most intimate of intimates, his eyes roved from her pelvis up her torso and the stories her scars told to the diamonds that came just short of brushing her bra. For all intents and purposes she had given herself to him days ago, his name scrawled over every inch of her body when she tried on the necklace for the first time. Breaking in the same dress she hadn't been able to wear for New Years - a clingy number he had brought from a trip in Egypt - she had let herself shed all pretense.

Men and women alike had thrown themselves at Rafe ever since he could remember, all for the sake of who he was. Before he did anything else with (or to) Bai, he had to know what made her so different from the rest. Rafe needed to hear the words that she wouldn't say, and he had to believe them. "Tell me. Tell me why I should give you anything else."

"Americans are always painted in a certain light, to be greedy and to blindly take what they want without a thought of the consequences." It was an interesting angle to approach the answer from (and not unlike the beginning of her term paper). True or not there were no shortages of things she could have said to convince him, but this would definitely set her apart from the rest. "But that's wrong - not all of them are like that." Even at her worst she knew better than to go on too long without feeding his ego. "American or not, I haven't met too many guys that can stomach the daily grind of our lifestyle." It didn't escape her notice that he responded to the use of the word 'our'. "Even if they can be man enough to get through a single torture session and removing the body after, there are fewer still that can keep me in line. But you can. You could kill me right now without a drop of remorse and go on with your life without sparing me a second thought. Even my father would have to think twice about what he had done."

Bai never spoke about her father. For her to do so now must have meant that she was even more adamant about making an impression than he'd previously thought. From her perspective, this was the first opportunity that presented itself. "Your father?" Wisely done on her part - it was a topic that caught his attention. "Is that why you burn yourself?" To illustrate his point, he let go of the jewelery before it broke and moved the hand that wasn't supporting his weight to graze across the map of uncharted islands veiled by the sheer paneling of her top. Of all the markings on her body, those had been what he was most curious about.

As a matter of fact, it was. A child barely capable of speech, Bai had once dishonored her father by speaking out in front of a prominent official; as punishment he had hot wax melted slowly over her abdomen every day for a fortnight. Enjoying it more than she ought to have, it happened so frequently in her youth that it had become a habit that persisted today, however as an adult it had shifted from being just another part of her routine to atonement for speaking to anyone that wasn't her superior. Except she used a lighter now instead of the wax - that was saved for special occasions.

"If this is an interrogation, I have better ways to go about it." Head rolling against her shoulder to indicate the dresser, her sapphire eyes hinted which specific drawer he should search. Pretending for a moment that he hadn't been spying on the head of his security team, the blonde train-wreck sobbing in the corner flinched noticeably when the storage space had been brought up. The bottom drawer had seen more use this week than the bedroom door did in six months.

He looked at her as if she were crazy and stated matter-of-factly, "You're not getting off until you answer my question."

Noting the use of the word 'until' and that there had been no indication of being on the proverbial hook, she couldn't help but to smirk. So Rafe was going to do his part to attempt to get her off at some point. "I just did." Playing cute as she tempted fate, Bai pulled him down into a sloppy kiss. "We don't want to bore you, now do we?" Turning the tables, the bespectacled woman grabbed the lapel of his Alexander McQueen and used the jacket to rotate their positions so that she was straddling him.

Funny how one sentence had been enough to carry them through better or worse for the better part of twenty years.


	16. Fifteen Hours Too Many

**\- Chapter Fourteen -**

 **Fifteen Hours Too Many**

Preparations coming along to ( _finally!_ ) get the show on the road - several hours too many lost in the ex-con's opinion - the boys began to bustle about the low-rent and improvised safe house to pack all the necessary supplies that they might need. So mostly climbing gear, transportation essentials, and minimalist emergency first aid. Still on the mend and not trusted by the veteran adventurer to grab anything useful the first time around, the teen curled up on a damp windowsill, pretended to not notice how filthy her perch was, and idled by. Viewing the opinion to be the equivalent of not being able to find her way out of a paper bag if her life had depended on it, there just wasn't enough left to let that eat away at her. Despite not being completely oblivious to the way the world worked, she was fine with being left alone to her own devices.

It gave her time to observe what they deemed to be the most useful on the journey, and to think. But not about the diseases she'd probably contracted from prolonged exposure to the frigid concrete block below or accidentally touching some of the spray paint that had seeped through from the outside. Worrying about that kind of thing was what her handler did, she just "enjoyed" the ride. Recovering from her almost-drowning and the head injury, a lot had changed between picking up her copy of _A General History of the Robberies and Murders of the Most Notorious Pyrates_ to now.

Feeling too much like a bad pop song or poorly written script that was stuck on repeat, honestly Daniella wasn't quite sure where she stood with her mother. Angry about being abandoned to utter strangers during a medical emergency, part of her just didn't want to think about the woman ever again, yet the inner adolescent that had yet to grow up was nigh convinced that this disappearance was something to fret over. She didn't ask, and no one was telling her anything, so the teen could only assume that her mom was fine. Wherever she was.

Also no longer so sure about the concept of unconditional love, the last time they spoke her mother hadn't exactly been proud of her daughter either. Thinking about that gloomy prospect served only to erode her innards and make her angrier, because she hadn't done anything to disappoint her mom, whereas the woman had lied and bartered her daughter off like cattle. This time she was innocent of any wrongdoing.

Lit spirit of teen rebellion growing stronger than it ever had in the past, the flames inside inspired bad thoughts. Lips whispering something inaudible into her phone, Daniella moved her gaze from Ms. Frazer to Mr. Drake, bent over the table as he scribbled down a list on everything that needed to be restocked before they left. Light jeans curved just the right amount and disturbed only by an empty holster and the bottom of a knitted field of azure, it had crossed her mind to earn the scorn, although that in turn was something else she was having a hard time wrapping her head around.

Call ending with a firm groan that sounded half a purr, Chloe returned her cell to her back pocket and crossed her arms over her cornflower windbreaker. Though the shades were different, it was too much blue for Daniella's taste, however it couldn't be said that the career thief didn't look stunning as she stretched. Limbering up for a long drive and an even longer trip, she called out to the heiress before grabbing a set of keys from the oval obelisk on the wall by the front. Even sporting a streak of silver in the front, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that the woman could stop traffic.

"Ready, love?"

Approached by the young lady for a private word when it was agreed that it was time to set out, Frazer had caught on almost right away that an extra item was needed on the shopping list. They had only spoken maybe twice at that point so it was still embarrassing for the child to admit, but it was a talk she felt they needed to have, woman-to-woman. Clearing it with the babysitter before he had an aneurysm and jumped to the conclusion that she had kidnapped the teen, Chloe merely said that she thought it was a good idea that someone had a good long talk to the girl about the birds and the bees before letting her into the wild. Drake obviously didn't like the prospect of what the real talk would entail, however he had agreed when she clued him in on the way that women worked. _It was almost as good a picture as when she broke her ex_.

Snatching the list from Sam before he had the chance to finish it, the dark haired beauty scanned the crumpled notebook paper for all of six seconds with her glorious gray graze before folding it up and slipping the paper inside her sky blue coat. From the way his hazel eyes watched her motions, it couldn't have been any more obvious that he was imagining the layer beneath the jacket. Carting around an unmarked crate for pick up, Logan had broke the brunette's concentration when he cried out at the cockroach that scurried over the top of his hand.

"Guns, first-aid, rum, and more guns. Sounds about right." Especially after he had cleared out the remainder of the good stuff. Guilty of starting the bottle off and having a hand in the drought, Chloe was still convinced that he was attempting to drink away his denial about wanting to get the Gucci off the girl.

Knuckles pulling back as she propelled herself of the ledge, Daniella slid to her feet. Borrowed shoes ill-fitting as they were, it was a clean landing. Glad there had been things around to wear that weren't three sizes too big, she was still eager to find comfortable clothes that wouldn't be a hazard for the adventure that purportedly had a knack at finding the Drake brothers. Mad at herself for requesting certain personal items from Chloe before thinking to invite herself along, the heiress had to keep fixing the trousers. Bloating only adding fuel to the fire, truthfully it almost made her want to cry that her thighs threatened to burst the seams of the tan fabric. Done with tears and currently garbed in the one tank top Elena had donated to the cause that hadn't been devoured by the poor storage conditions, the one positive to take away was that at 5'9" she wasn't suffering vertically.

Loading bay door thrown wide to make the transitions smoother, the "back door" being open let in both a scrapping chill and the smell of the rain (in addition to the usual city scents). Torn between the new-found person she was trying to become and the old dullard that had been shaped from etiquette and loneliness, Daniella awkwardly lingered in place for a moment. Chloe was already on her way out the exit and heading for the three car garage (well, two, as the the third option was actually a motor bike), but the teen wasn't certain if she should just follow suit or if she should say goodbye first. Finding it silly and juvenile that she was so hung up on something so small and insignificant, with everything that happened with her mother she just wasn't sure about anything. Labeling it 'baby duck syndrome', the teen was hesitant to leave the last trace of familiarity behind for even a moment, however she was almost equally as reluctant to face Mr. Drake.

"Umm, bye...?" Faltering out into the conceptual darkness with a whimper and impaling herself on the hopes that she could make for a bad-ass pirate, the girl shook her head at her stupidity and bolted out after Chloe. While it was better than a curtsy, she could hardy believe that pitiful excuse of a wave. _The least I could have done was put some feeling into it, not... whatever that was!_

Paused in their tracks to watch the girl utterly fail at dipping out, the surfer shrugged it off as nothing, however his father gave her retreat more consideration and mused privately to himself if she had it in her mind that there was a reason to avoid him. Responsible for the teen for reasons he himself couldn't fully fathom, at first it hadn't struck him as anything out of place when she kept her check-ups short and to the point, due largely to the fact that he had no idea if she was much for speaking in the first place.

Dells didn't speak to the blonde more than anyone else did, although that could have been because she blamed him for her mother shunning her as some sort of scarlet woman. Chloe on the other hand... It had been slow going, yet once that ball got rolling the two women could carry on whole conversations. If a conversation was defined as the elder reminiscing to the younger as they shared a lukewarm bottle of whatever was handy. How long the camaraderie would last was anyone's guess, but he had to wonder just how much Frazer was influencing the girl...

Sky painted a layered ode to Rorschach that just came off rapper levels of pretentious, the pair were just relieved that the rain had temporarily ceased. Climbing into the battered old jeep like a sane person while the girl thought to test the full range of her capabilities and swung in from the side through the back, Chloe started the vehicle and turned the station to her preferred choice. At least Nate had good taste that she could get behind, but the elder brother? Not so much. Guest or no, the teen wasn't going to get a say in the radio today. If the raven had thought to consult her Magic 8-Ball and asked if the the heiress had the same shitty taste in music that Sam did, "all signs point to yes".

Truth be, after mustering up the courage to make her request, Chloe was somewhat taken aback that the girl wasn't opting to stay behind and watch the men work up a sweat. Story recapped while Sleeping Beauty was out of it, she understood the sore feelings Daniella held towards Logan, but the boy was _shredded_! Apart from being happily off the market, the surfer would have been a much more reasonable choice to lust after, although she knew as well as anyone that you just can't pick and chose whose going to get your engines revving. On the winning side of hindsight for a change, it was probably better that the heiress was coming along.

Quietly observing in disbelief as the teenager buckled up without prompt, a mischievous grin crept across her lush lips. "Something else on your list you forgot to ask about?" The kid was just asking for it. "Trust someone that knows, it would be better to leave the battery-operated friend at home."

Ears turning bright red, Daniella sputtered like the lead in any one of the tween-for-mom books that had been adapted for the big screen back when she was still in diapers. If it wasn't so funny it might have been sad that she had knocked her knees into the dash with a painful-sounding crack, "Wh-what-?! N-no! Why would I-?!"

Mark so easy that she may as well have been a Drake, Chloe smirked at the teen's unease and took the conversation in a slightly different direction. Okay, so it wasn't going to be different at all. Tickled pink by having a new friend to mercilessly torture, it couldn't have been clearer that Sam would certainly have his hands full trying to crack this nut, if just talking about that kind of thing bothered her so much. On a semi related note, Elena would probably get along with the heiress swimmingly. No, Chloe could actually picture them getting on quite well.

In spite of what items she had actually been asked to purchase, she teased the girl by finishing her sentence, "Why would you need to when you have what I've been led to believe is a completely adequate dance partner? You tell me love. I'm not the one trying to put some distance between myself and a decision I know I'll regret."

Daniella twisted around in her seat for a better look at Chloe. "Really, _this_ conversation?"

Everyone always spoke about Sam like there was some horrible thing, yet she hadn't seen anything particularly bad about him. In fact she was willing to take that one step further and admit to herself that after everything that's gone down, she just felt safest around him. Ms. Frazer wasn't bad company by any means, however it was still too soon to make a call on how trustworthy the woman was.

Prior to overhearing the duo in the room, the teen most likely would have glommed on to Mr. Drake and spoke almost exclusively to him, but after hearing the notion that he could have been looking at her like that put out into the universe... It made her stomach flutter, yet she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

It wasn't like she exactly had anyone in her life, but she thought she had been slowly building towards something with Jay. Much like the clusterfuck of this experience, that also hadn't panned out the way she'd hoped. Alumnus of the Ivy League, he was just too attractive and vocal about being too young to be pinned down; what he was less transparent about was how far he was willing to blur the line between mentor and pupil. As he constantly reminded her she was just a dumb kid that wasn't advanced enough to know what she wanted, that had an image to protect, even if she didn't want to.

Under the belief that the teen was smitten with the elder Drake brother, this seemed like the opportune moment to make good on her crack about the birds and the bees. Once a teenage girl struggling to find her way in the big scary world, she'd have liked nothing more than to tell the girl that the ex-con wasn't going to be one of those pricks, but that would have been dishonest. Nadine had really hit the nail on the head during their trek through the Western Ghats - they were all assholes. But to his credit, Sam was less of a dick than he let on and they loved him just the same. Even Nadine had started to come around to him at that time (keyword being started).

Willing to give them the benefit of the doubt when they claimed that nothing had happened just yet, mostly because it was so bloody obvious, Chloe had to wonder just how much experience the heiress actually had. Not just with guys, with life in general. "Why else would you keep avoiding Sam?"

Satisfactory answer in short supply, the heiress was becoming less enthralled with the woman's accent. Ten minutes ago, she would have pondered if she was more in love with the way Ms. Frazer spoke or the silky sound of her dulcet tone, however the topic was getting under her skin enough to deny that she quite enjoyed both. "I just needed some air." That wasn't a lie, as she had been cooped up in place or another since this whole thing started. "It would be nice to just get to enjoy the open, even if it is still overcast outside."

Because fresh air was going out of style.

Chloe was skeptical about that and had the hunch that the girl was just trying her damnedest to protect herself from getting hurt. She'd learned back when she had been younger even than the heiress that walling yourself off and playing it cool was a great defense, however she had no clue what could have happened in the pampered palace that housed the sheltered little flower. Perhaps it wasn't what had already happened but what was already in motion?

Frankly, she was proud of the girl for relying on herself, although she had to be careful - that was a slippery slope.

Linen scratching his finger tips as he picked up the discarded gauze to repurpose the spools of bandage left behind on the bed from where Chloe had tossed the remainder aside after helping the girl getting the dressings even, the brunette realized that she had the softer sheets. Even though they were on the crux of departing, he was still tempted to swap the blankets around... Ultimately deciding that that would have been a waste of time (next time he would just have to remember to select this cot), Sam threw the absorbent strips into the side pocket of the backpack being prepared for the teen. Winding them around his fist to get the wraps tight enough, he remembered as he packed to leave room for the personal items as well.

Glad that he had been given a brother and not a sister for just that reason, when Nathan and Elena had made the announcement of their baby's gender - thus forever crushing Sullivan's dreams of another Victor - Sam offered his sincerest apologies to his little brother. Staying by his little brother after all they had been through was all the proof he needed that Elena could handle anything, so he wasn't worried about her. But that little punk? Himself being the kind of guy that all fathers should fear, Cassie was the perfect karma.

Maybe it was that same lack of karma on the sibling that really deserved it that was the driving force behind his current behavior. Taking care of his brother for the first half of his life, the ex-con wasn't some heartless bastard that would just leave a kid out to die in the rain. Sam had looked out for Nathan, had taken one of the less assuming inmates under his wing in the first four years of his immuration (and had the scar to prove it), hell, he'd even done his friend a solid and tended to a failing wife. And that time had been without any implied winks. Perhaps he simply had a more nurturing side than the'd given himself credit for, although the one houseplant he'd been given had been the precedent for proving otherwise. Ordinarily he'd argue about human versus fauna life, yet with the girl he'd been left in charge of, it was rather difficult to see the difference at times.

 _Except it wasn't very often he came across daisies that wore lace._

Coming in to the communal bed area from putting back the gear they wouldn't be using on the trip, Logan just saw Sam crouching over the bed that the heiress had been using. What the blonde failed to grasp was that while Dani seemed to be recovering, the explorer was simply being thorough. "When I miss Chelsea when we're apart, I like to have her scent around too. It's easy to replace the smell of vanilla, but there's more to her that I just can't replicate." Thoughtful, he sighed at just how much he missed his wife. "When I first realized I loved her, I couldn't stand to be be out of her presence for more than an hour. You must really be into Dani if you're missing her after only fifteen minutes."

One, Dells had already made it known that she didn't much care to be called Dani, and two, did he even have to say what the second thing was? The tatted thief was getting so sick and tired of everyone just assuming that there was something between himself and the heiress, it was almost tempting to consider the possibility. To be fair, he supposed that it was one thing for an outsider to keep it up, but he had to get it from Chloe too, and not just in that 'we're friends, so its okay if I torment you' kind of way. If anyone should have understood that the girl was just a job to him, it should have been the ravenette.

He couldn't help it if the girl elicited pity out of him, no more than he could help how much she reminded him of Rafe. By action he wouldn't have guessed that there was a relation, but by looks she was a dead-ringer for her old man. Except for her eyes. Though they bore a strong resemblance to her father's in shape and color, that was the one place Bai's genetics became apparent. _After almost twenty years of no second thoughts, it was hard to forget the animal hunger he'd seen in those eyes..._

Daniella wasn't her parents. Reminding himself of that, Sam rose to as much of his height as the room would allow, passing the surfer without any further indication that he had heard him. Instead of indulge the lingerer, he moved over to Chloe's bed to search for any trinkets that the woman may have left behind. Assuming that anything should go missing, it was her own fault for rooming with scoundrel and not securing her personal stash.

Chloe pretty much the only one that paid him any heed, Logan was getting used to the cold shoulder. He didn't particularly enjoy being shunned like the guy that always came to the party and mooched without the intention of giving back, he was just becoming familiar with how the other guys on the circuit must have felt when he was on the rise. He wouldn't be stopped though. "Chelsea looks like she wants to punch me half the time too, but she knows that I'm right."

Plagued by insistent jabber that he just didn't want to hear, if it wasn't some comment about the relationship he imagined was between the ex-con and the heiress, the blonde was always on about his noticeably absent spouse. Scoring nothing from his fellow veteran, Drake turned around to face Logan. "If she's so perfect, why aren't you with your wife now?"

"Because I wanted to find my father." Logan knew then that his time had come. He'd been trying to be civil about it and only broached the topic when it seemed like Sam could spare a moment, but somehow if it wasn't the older man dealing with catering to the dead rich dude's daughter, he was just miles away. Chelsea would frequently get annoyed that he too would vanish into his own mind, but she understood the man she had married, and she knew that it was because he was wondering about the life he never had. "She knew it was important to me, and we both agreed that we wanted the whole family there when she delivered the baby."

Ah, now it all made sense from Logan's perspective. What insight about raising a child he hoped to glean was a mystery to Sam, when he himself had only just learned that he was potentially someone's father. Despite the evidence smacking him in the face, Drake just wasn't going to admit his role, not while he was sober.


	17. Head

**\- Chapter Fifteen -**

 **Head**

Throwing up the heather hood of the jacket she'd found to hide the ivory circlet that adorned her crown, Daniella followed Chloe out of the car and into the store. Hitting their destinations in the order in which they were arranged rather than based on how relevant the stores were to the agenda, so in others practically, the sign on the marquee declared it to be a pawn shop. Unassuming about the real kind of business that went down in the corner shop, by the end of the transaction she had to wonder about how many services the owner actually offered.

A line of miniature bulbs outlined both full-sized windows and the top of the door, almost identical to the flashing attention grabbers that lit the outside between city lamp posts. Stuffed mid-way through flight, a predatory eagle hunted for a display of ornate knives in one window; the opposite case was taken up by a grandfather clock and an autographed guitar. Apparently pawn shops had to be stocked with at least one antique timepiece. Optimistic as the set-up was, the seediness of the establishment was called in to question by the heavy bars bracing both sides of the glass.

Patrons numbering enough to count on the fingers of one hand, an old woman with poodle-pink curls and a leopard-print bathrobe was haggling over the price of a couple gold earrings and a silver pendant at the front counter. Heavy bifocals and an obvious hearing aid were either part of a strategy to appear harmless to vendors or else she was a tougher old bird than it seemed, because she wasn't folding. Also invested in the outcome of the old woman verses the clerk, a hipster couple in their mid-twenties were lighting up their phones with the play-by-play. Observing the matching tattoos of stylized swallows on the back of their hands as the squatter of the two blew a bright blue bubble, Daniella wondered if the story was being relayed in text or emoji form.

Entering behind the heiress with graceful catlike movements, Chloe put her hand on the teen's shoulder before wandering off to see about something for a friend and her son. Leaning close to whisper up into the slightly higher ear of the other female, the beauty ignored the fact that Daniella jumped at the unexpected contact, "Feel free to browse while I have a word with the owner. Shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes."

Aquamarine sapphires sparkling in the direction of the other young adults, she hoped that Ms. Frazer didn't mean for her to socialize. Unlike some, Daniella had no disdain for hipsters (wrapped in the cozy flannel with the hood up, she might have even passed for a hipster lite herself). She was just antisocial. Call her a snob or an ice princess for it, though it stung to hear the words she opted out of mingling with people for a good reason.

Head bobbing in affirmation, she watched Chloe glide off with a seductive sashay towards the second register. Flustered with the other female or not (which there was still some residual agitation if truth be told), there was something magical in her sway that could almost make one forget any prior exchange. In the spirit of burying the hatchet to make their day together as pleasant as it could be under the circumstances, Daniella turned attention instead to the checkout line. Maybe this was merely the sheltered rich girl being ignorant of the world, but it seemed unlikely that a pawn shop would have need of another open stall. Having said that, with negotiations seeming to go on for hours like it did with the old woman, it was a handy addition.

Speaking of the old lady drama that was so enthralling to the other costumers (whom were most likely baked beneath their ironic indoor sunglasses), she seemed to come to a satisfactory price for the necklace, but not for the studded hoops. Actually it was a shame that she was short on funds at the moment, because the teen would have paid what the crone was originally asking for the moonstone necklace - it would have gone beautifully with the ring her mother had given her last easter. Say what you would about the woman, but for someone that rarely wore jewelery, Mama knew how to pick the prettiest pieces.

On that token, she had to ponder what kinds of things her father would have gotten for his daughter. Would he have bought out the entire building for the day for his little girl to take her pick? They had the money, and technically speaking he probably wouldn't have needed to actually buy anything since the family owned or had a hefty stake in just about every major business. Or would he have wanted less of a Marilyn and more of a Jackie? From what little she had learned about him, she could just imagine her father spending millions on books and scales and all manner of scopes. Typical of most small children, she would have adored that kind of treatment, but as the young woman she was now...

Without Shen to show her what it was like to not have a warm bed and food on the table every night, there was every possibility that Daniella would be the spoiled brat that demanded the world for nothing in return. As the finally tally stood, her father was dead, her good step-father was gone, and she was the kind of person that would have much rather spent the occasion in the company of those she loved. It was probably dumb and the biggest waste of time anyone could conceive, yet to her the best thing in the world would have been knowing that someone else loved her enough to chose to spend that time in her presence. _What she wouldn't have given for just one day with her father._

Simple affection was all she desired, yet she found herself squirming in her own skin to shy out of the spotlight when one of the two hipsters glanced in her direction. Asking herself how she hoped to find someone that could answer her silent prayer if she shunned contact with anyone that wasn't forcibly injected into her life by happenstance, the wannabe swashbuckler knew that she should at least attempt to engage with the couple. Yet...

"Did you really think we were ever friends?" Twelve years old and still waiting to hit the first signs of puberty like the early peakers in the rest of the class, Daniella would have sunk down to her knees if she hadn't been sitting on the toilet. Hidden in the stall not because she had to use the facilities but because a stolen doodle on her math packet had fallen into circulation, she had no choice but to listen as the best friend of last year continued, "Her mom made my mom invite her along. Dan "the Man" is just the worst!"

Flocked by a gaggle of her groupies, Carissa Reynolds tossed her perfect curtain of sable hair over her perfect tanned shoulder to flaunt what made her the Queen Bitch. One of her many followers started the chorus of "lames" and scoffs, which earned a nod of approval from the top of the lacquered totem. Checking her make-up for the third time since entering the girls room, the ringleader glanced under the stalls and identified the heiress by her footwear. An evil smirk crept across her face when she realized that she had an audience.

Adjusting herself in the mirror, Carissa casually put her back to the row of toilets so that Daniella could see her reflection through the crack. "I never told anyone this, but the last time I was bribed to stay the night at her house, she threatened to kill herself if I didn't do what she asked." Faking a forlorn sigh, the more developed female knew that the loser couldn't dispute the rumor without bursting out of the stall and looking like a creeper. "I'm such a good person that I didn't want that on my conscious, but now it feels like the freak is stalking me."

Drama class leading lady at work, Carissa had the others eating out of the palm of her hand. Tennessee - yes that was her real name, though mostly she went by Nessee - played the part of the most prominent and loyal of the handmaids. Bringing the boss lady in for a hug that would have had half the boys in the class drooling, the petite redhead patted the other girl sympathetically in circles, "There, there. This is a safe place. Just let it out."

"Oh, I'm so glad to have friends like you!" Carissa stuck her tongue out at Daniella at the barb, capitalizing on the fact that her back was to her so-called squad. Squeezing Nessee tight as the last life preserver on the Titanic (which they had just started watching in history class), she began to shed crocodile tears, "It's been so hard keeping it bottled up this whole time! Dannis "the Manis" wasn't my first kiss, thank God, but I think that I was hers. Creature made us practice half the night, until it just completely overheated. Then..." Trailing off purposefully to let the mind fill in the blanks, the dark haired girl simpered at her former friend before burying her face in Nessee's ginger locks.

Murmurs filled the room like the buzzing of bees at a funeral, "You should have just let her die." Agreement echoed the statement.

"She's a waste of space."

"Truly awful."

"Freak would be better off dead."

"Right? Like, I swear I saw her checking out the gym teacher when everyone was changing last period. So nasty."

"I heard she pays off hobos to rub her off and orders them to let her call them daddy."

Carissa was clearly upset that she hadn't come up with that lie on her own, it was clear from the look her face, however she liked it enough to pounce. "That makes so much sense! My parents always go on about how shady the Adler family was. Daddy even let it slip in front of me once that Dan "the Man" was the mistake of a coke whore that just hit the lottery. And any dick that comes her way. Like, who can be really sure that she was even that psycho's daughter? Sure, crazy doesn't fall far from the tree, but have any of you ever met her mother? Yikes. Danny will probably end up becoming a gutter slut before graduating high school. That is, if she doesn't kill herself first." Carissa looked directly into the crack, right at Daniella as her words pierced down to the marrow, "She should really just do everyone else a favor and die."

Fist clenching at the memory, the heiress turned away from the couple to stared fixedly at a poorly lit shelf brimming with various little knickknacks. Admittedly the first thing to catch her attention was a Colt M1911; her father's had been lost with his body she knew, however her mother had gone on at length about the pearl-gripped pistol. She never understood how or why her mother had known anything about guns, but it was beginning to make a lot of sense after recent events.

Left of the gun displays were endless strands of goldenrod ropes and loops of cubic zirconium bracelets, rings of polished nickel glinting in the overhead fluorescents. Obviously the clerks held on to the good stuff and would only bring it out under request. Right was an assortment of miscellaneous odds and ends, beginning with a stack of computer towers older than she was. A ceramic owl painted in neons only needed a black light to really come to life. Power tools were neatly displayed on the shelves opposite, where a snug little niche had been made for statuettes. Most of the marble men were fashioned in art deco or mod inspirations, however there was also a sizable collection of trophies - one or two were untouched, but the majority had had the inscribed names and deeds filed off. Laminated comic books and other reading material inhabited the far back of the store, sharing company with lamps, rugs, and musical instruments that weren't quite impressive enough to make the front display.

Door tinkling with the chime of two bells as it opened, a teenage boy in a tattered riding jacket strolled into the shop to start his shift. Half of his face beaten down to a pulp - the missing blows leaving a welt on his cheek just below the eye - yet the heiress immediately recognized the second of the three boys that had assaulted her at the pool. Despite the lack of alcohol to lend him the same crooked stature as that night, there was no mistaking his voice as he greeted his co-worker. Suppressing a shudder, she could _feel_ his hot breath on her ear.

 _I hope Sam did that to you,_ calling him the foulest of names in her mind, Daniella wasted no time in blocking his path to the door marked 'employees only'. Getting a good look at his face, or rather what remained of it, she rooted herself in his line of sight to etch it into memory and to savor the damage it had taken.

Not accustomed to being accosted so soon on the job, Liam blinked at the young woman blocking his route to the storage closet. It was where he'd forgotten his name tag last night after cleaning up early to go to the opening show of his nephew's school play. Swollen eye still rocking the white equal sign bandages from Leslie kicking him out of the group, he was more disappointed in Tommy for not coming with him than almost anything else. Although it still ached to touch or move in certain ways. Taking a moment to remember why the young woman in his way looked so familiar, when she lowered her hood for him, he felt like he had just been kicked in the gut.

"You're okay!" Overwhelmed with relief strong enough to wash away a fraction of the guilt, he threw his arms around her. He was too happy to even consider the possibility that she was there on a mission to get retribution, although he had said multiple times that she would have had every right to track the three of them down like dogs. Perhaps it should be noted that he had grown up with certain kinds of films, and was therefore quick to compare real life to what was captured on camera.

Sobering up and vowing to never again let himself get so wasted that he would become such a douche, Liam tried on three separate occasions to get in touch with Sam. That had been a no-go, although he had left a verbal message with the guy he had seen coming out of the hotel room on the second try. He'd even tried going to the nearest hospital, however he had no idea how to go about asking for a Jane Doe that had hurt her head and almost drowned as a result without sounding like he had been personally responsible. Not knowing if the girl made it or not had been giving him nightmares ever since the accident.

Internally hissing at the unwarranted physical contact, she shoved the strange boy off with a much more menacing growl than even she knew she was capable of. "You don't get to touch me. EVER!"

Hipster couple stopped the grandma narrative and immediately immersed themselves in what they must have imagined was a lovers spat; even the old woman and the clerk had paused for half a heartbeat when Daniella screamed, yet they were too invested (and seasoned) to be bothered. Chloe was completely gone at that point in time, most likely some place in the back with the owner of the store. If she had even heard the sudden screech from her location, she must not have deemed it as important enough to come running out to check on the girl.

Liam threw his arms up in a gesture of peaceful surrender, however he made no other move to back off. "Fair enough. I was a complete and utter asshole to you that night, you have every right to be pissed off at me."

 _Pissed off?!_ Face contorting into a white rage that simmered the dry air, she was livid enough to start a one-woman riot that could change the geographical landscape of the city! "Oh, I have a right all of a sudden! So glad you approve!" Swatting him in the chest with full force, she barely registered in her fury that he wasn't resisting the blows but was graciously accepting them as they came. Initially he had flinched as his muscles contracted to defend himself at the very least, however he had resisted the urge. "Your friend called me a horrible name! And the other one was even worse! He almost killed me!"

And then her picture was promptly posted to social media, bandages and all. But in that moment, she had bigger fish to fry.

"But you're still standing!" He flashed a high beam in the hopes that she would take a moment to give herself props for the feat, however it only earned him a busted nose.

Anger boiling over the limit of containment, Daniella didn't even try to fight the wave of blackened crimson that washed over her as she socked the guy square in the face. Before either of them knew what was happening, her fingers were wrapped around his throat and she was yelling at the top of her lungs. He was the bad guy here, he had touched her intimately and without permission, he hadn't stopped his friend from almost killing her, he hadn't even tried to save her after the deed was done. He was the real monster. Not her...

 _I didn't mean to... Mama, I swear, I didn't mean it..._

Wrists locking at her ribcage in a manner similar to the Heimlich maneuver, the leaner of the hipsters had their arms around the heiress and was yanking her off the boy before she could finish the job that someone else started. Hands harmlessly grazing the underside of her bust as they wrapped around her torso, the hipster that was restraining her was doing so with great difficulty, yet the paramour continued to document the scene. Whispering words that were meant to be calming as she kicked and bucked and thrashed wildly to get at the bastard, Daniella was too riled up to stop.

Body wriggling for freedom, when it became apparent that the teen was too upset to be mellowed by mere entreatment alone, the second hipster finally stopped recording and came to help. Neither could fathom what could have possibly gone down between the kids to earn such a vicious attack, they could only tell that was time to remove her before the altercation became a crime scene. Observing the boy whimper and cry as he spat out a tooth (or part of one at any rate), the pair escorted the girl out of the building and to the narrow ally where the trash was collected. Sharing the space with a dry cleaner, it was a nice little space to offer a different method of medication.

"Easy, little mama. Bonehead's not gonna hurt you again." The hipster at the teen's back loosened their grip to let her know that they meant her no harm, yet not letting go entirely also conveyed that they weren't about to let her waltz back into the would-be massacre either. "I'm Angel. That's Ashley. Ash, intro?"

Ashley nodded obligingly, following Angel's lead. "'Sup? Name's Ashley. That's my lifemate, Angel." Androgynous down to the way they both spoke, Angel and Ashley both carried accents; Angel was straight out of Brooklyn, and Ashley had some kind of mid-western twang going on, but neither were the definition of stereotypical. "Have been for the last three years. And you, deary?"

Watching the way that Ashley dug around in various pockets, the heiress tensed for a moment when a bowie knife was brought out in a flash of silver. Missing the smirk that crossed Angel's lips due to her present position, the blade was promptly returned to its proper place with a small sigh of exasperation and a mumble about not letting people anymore lighters. "Did you lose it again?"

Clearly Ashley had lost the last of the lighters again, but was in no mood to admit it. Who could blame a person when their significant other was being smug about it? "Just give me a minute, I'll find it!" Silence reigned as the search intensified.

Daniella knew better than to just go announcing who she was, so she followed their example of keeping surnames out of the mix. "You can call me Dells..." Sam called her that, but she liked the way it sounded. "It's what M-" Daniella had been about to explain that that was what Mr. Drake called her, however she had no clue who these people were or what they wanted to do to her, so it occurred to the teen to stretch the truth a little, "my man calls me. Then again, that name might just apply to him, and I never realized it." As she tacked that on, the teen realized just how true that statement was. Logan kept calling her Danny despite her repeatedly telling him not to do so, and Chloe didn't really seem to have any special attachment to any shorthand yet.

Releasing the girl once she was deemed to be relaxed enough to hold a conversation without endangering anyone, Angel formally extended a hand. "Ashley's not much for manners, but what can you do? It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, D. Little compromises, am I right?" Greeting the heiress in a polite fashion with a playful wink, Angel apologized for having to manhandle the teen while tossing Ash a lighter, thus proving the point about sacrificing for your partner. "Sorry about back there. We just had to keep you from doing something that someone so young would regret. We believe in making mistakes in life, but there's also a point when other people need to step in and prevent really bad things, you know?"

Less composed than Angel, Ashley caught the lighter in midair and lit up the joint that had been tucked behind an ear rocking size zero gages. Honestly the teen thought the whole gage fad had died a long time ago, but different strokes she supposed. "So what's the story?" Not entirely crass and without a sense of courtesy, Ashley offered a puff just after making the demand.

A hundred and one cautionary tales crossed her mind in that moment, but the frayed remains of Daniella's nerves were the very definition of the edge. Accepting the hit with gratitude, Daniella lightly touched the bandages on her brow and exhaled deeply before considering the complete contents of what she was smoking. Figuring it was too late now, she continued the circle. "See this? That dick and his friends did this to me. I just wanted to be left alone, but they just wouldn't listen and kept coming at me." Angel blew the smoke directly in her face, and she wondered briefly how her new guardians would react to her coming back blitzed and smelling like stale herb. "I hope my Sam's responsible for what happened to his face, the cur deserves it."

Giggle escaping at the use of the word 'cur', Ashley took a double before passing it back around to the heiress for the fourth or fifth time. No one was keeping track, and even if they would have been, by the time the teen had finished her explanation all records had stopped. "Dude, who talks like that?"

Shrugging as she stumbled back into the brick wall of the laundromat for support, Daniella felt it getting to her head by the time she gave it to Angel. "I dunno, dickweeds? Wait..."

Final puff a deep one, Angel and Ashley nodded at each other as the teen wrapped herself to Angel for the warmth and protection. While it wasn't quite the same, it would suffice.

Ashley was cool too, but Angel was really nice...


	18. Kidnapped By Hipsters

**\- Chapter Sixteen -**

 **Kidnapped... By Hipsters? #NewLow**

Prepared to denounce any involvement with the heiress when she finally came out of the back room with the owner of the pawn shop, Chloe nearly dropped the bags in her arms. Trained by her line of work and even more so by the incorrigible rogues in her world to make note of the landscape, the first thing that the raven-haired beauty noticed was the boy being tended to by the clerk working the front desk. Bloodied up and crying out for the pain to stop as his body curled into the fetal position, it was tough to tell at a glance what part of the injury was new and what had been there prior. Negotiations with the old woman at the counter put on indefinite hold, the clerk looked to his boss for instructions.

By no means an expert on the matter, she would have started by calling an ambulance. Although, scanning the room thoroughly for overlooked hidden cameras and potential witnesses that could stir up a fuss later, that might not have been in her own best interest. The darling daughter of her partner's ex was MIA and the two hobos with nothing better to do than spend the day hanging out in pawn shops where similarly nowhere to be seen. With so much finally happening, that couldn't have been an accident. Honestly, didn't Daniella know better than to go cavorting with strangers?

 _Sam is going to kill me._

Chloe had one job where the girl was concerned, and that was to keep an eye on her. Applauding the bang-up job she'd done so far as she exited the premises without a word to anyone else, it really shouldn't have come as much of a surprise that she'd muck it all up somewhere down the line. As her early friendship with Meenu proved, the thief was more than capable of tolerating children - she was just complete shit at managing them. Hence why she was the fun aunt and not in the line of succession to care for Cassie should the worst befall her parents.

Too practiced in the ways of the world by this point to allow herself the naivety of believing that she would just stumble across the heiress outside, the woman checked first in the four-wheeler (putting her purchase underneath the passenger seat and out of sight). Immediate search predictably yielding no results, she glanced around the rest of the block for the most likely of places where a pampered princess would go. Assuming that no foul play was afoot, the teen was apparently under the impression that she would have fifteen minutes to spare, so the getaway driver put herself in the girl's shoes to better understand where she might opt to wander.

Fifteen minutes was not a terribly long time, so anywhere outside of the block was pretty much out. On the downside that still left the laundromat next door, the adjoining discount tax office that would be more like to steal your information than help, and a pizza parlor. On the opposite side of the street was a tattoo place that offered piercings, a thrift shop, and a quaint little dealership that took up two lots. At least now it made sense why the pair of wash-ups were lurking in an pawn shop. The tax place was obviously out of the running, as was the car dealership, but that still left too many options to consider.

Laundromats were boring but full of bright colors, so it wasn't much of a stretch to imagine that that would be something Daniella might be interested in, and as there hadn't exactly been time to grab her wallet, it was free entertainment. Although for that option to even work first the teen would need some below the counter medication, and she just didn't seem the type. Being a teenager once herself, Chloe would have been most attracted to either the pizzeria or the guys in the tattoo parlor. Ah, the sweet memories of enjoying men reduced to tears over a little pain... The thrift shop was a possibility as well, and heaven knows there would be no shortage of clothes to pick from. Little Adler didn't explicitly mention wanting to find something to better fit her frame, but it wasn't difficult to guess that that was on her mind as well.

Without the excitement of nearly throttling a boy to death, it was anyone's guess as to where Daniella might decide to spend her time. Sam would possibly have some insight into the matter, but Chloe was trying to hold off on involving him for as long as she possibly could. Thinking harder about what the teen's mindset might be like after the attempted murder - seriously, she had thought the girl was some sort of reserved snob-type, but after witnessing the aftermath with her own eyes, the woman was beginning to reassess her opinion - the thief realized that with her blood up, ration would be out the window. After a fight, especially a life-or-death struggle, when the blood was still pumping you wanted more action to keep the feeling going; in most instances, that meant finding a little.

Pizza joint it was. Peeking around the corner of the pawnshop into the ally between the laundromat just in case, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so she kept going towards her destination.

 _Plip. Plip_.

Silence spanning for dynasties broken only by the insurgency of busted pipes, before long the only sound in Sleeping Beauty's ear was the shrill ringing of nothingness. To think that once not that long ago she had been ready to embrace that very same void of the damned. But now? Now all the heiress wanted was to see the sun again. Perhaps that sentiment was a tad melodramatic, however, after recently spending long stretches in an unconscious state where time had ceased to mean anything, she was loathe to repeat the cycle. Fair enough, locked in the darkness and stirring with the monster of all migraines - the kind that manifested behind the eyes and refused to leave for anything - it might have already been too late for that.

Waking up not that long ago, the teen found herself in pitch blackness - even after her eyes had adjusted somewhat, it was too dark to make out anything other than dim shapes. Plumbing leaking somewhere near enough to hear the occasional rush of water and the rhythmic quavering of metal, between the lack of light and the damp chill that permeated the air she guessed that she was someplace underground, quite possibly a cellar? One of the nearest and sharpest silhouettes had a broad curve to it, and the only thing she could think of that had a similar shape were casks of wine. Not exactly a telling clue, as most places served alcohol and there were more private collectors in the world than you could count in a lifetime.

At first the young woman had been under the impression that this was merely a bad trip, that her eyes were just closed and she hadn't yet figured out how to open them again. Then she felt the restraints.

Left with virtually no other choice in the matter, Drake found himself praying once more for some kind of emergency call to put him back into the thick of it. Yeah, so maybe that hadn't exactly turned out well the last time he wished to be doing literally anything else, but being more or less finished with everything they could do without the new inventory (some of which was arriving by mail), he hadn't taken into account how much time he'd have to kill while waiting for the heiress to come back. Stooping so low as to contemplate faking a call from his associate to get out of this and go collect the girl early just to get the show on the road, the brunette found himself suddenly missing prison. At least there you could start doing sit-ups without anyone to call you out for it. Or smoke without judgment.

 _Christ, he really was missing nicotine._

Once again the phrase 'anything is better than this' crossed his mind, and the adventurer wasn't going to dispute it. Sure, he could think of worse fates than listening to Logan, however he still found himself bargaining to the powers that be to intervene. Even if their quality grown-up girl bonding time hadn't seen the duo to the feminine aisles yet, having to carry around the boxes would haven been preferable to being roped into the whole family thing. If Nathan could endure getting the short end of that stick for the rest of his natural life, Sam could handle one day.

"And who all would be there?" Pretending to indulge whomever was eating a hole the size of Wyoming in his brain was a skill he'd learned years ago, and the kid was so amenable that he didn't even have to bring his "A" game. At least his little brother was a challenge.

So over the moon about the pregnancy that he still carried the black-and-white of the sea monkey his babe was cooking, Logan was relieved to finally be able to have this talk. Frankly, the only thing that made him happier was thinking about how close the due date was getting. "Obviously Chelsea, her grandma, her father, her two brothers, Clyde and Stephen." Covering her side of the family, the surfer was too familiar with the living relatives to realize that the gaps may have sounded off to anyone else. In his haste to list everyone of importance off, it wasn't clear if Clyde and Stephen were the names of her brothers or just really good friends. "Not sure if anyone else will be tagging along on their side... My mom'll probably be pissed at first, but it'll be fine. Her husband will see to that, and if he can't cool her off, Pammy Pat will."

Crystal marrying some yutz made sense, and frankly the only surprise in terms of her kids was that she only had the two. Assuming that that was what the blonde was getting at. Jesus the thief hoped so, because any other relation/arrangement just would have been strange. "Pammy... Pat?" Was she back on drugs again? Honestly Samuel didn't even want to know.

Face dead bored save for the mildly raised eyebrow, he had no idea how the blonde had gotten it into his mind that he cared in the slightest about any of this. Yet somehow, despite all the evidence to the contrary, the surfer truly seemed to believe that he was making headway. Why else would he have explained that "Pammy Pat" was just the nickname of Pamella Patrice Duffy?

"Pamela was my mom's mom if memory serves, and Patrice was the name of the wife Father Duffy had before becoming a priest."

Admittedly hearing the name Duffy again after all these years had given Samuel pause. Though not impossible, Drake sincerely doubted that the good Father had abandoned his calling of helping the boys of Saint Francis' for a troubled teen with an illegitimate son. Even if it was true that one of the disgraced black sheep of the flock had been responsible for said offspring... No, it was much more likely that Father Duffy had helped Crystal so often that his son and her just kinda happened.

Practically reading the mind of his biological father, the blonde nodded and confirmed the truth, "Legally I was given my stepfather's name when they got hitched, but my bros told me I should totally use my mom's name on the pro circuit. It _is_ pretty rad."

Nicotine cravings exacerbating his irritability, the ex-con bounced on the balls of his feet. Between Blondie breaking his arm patting himself on the back and the never-ending parade of boring blather, it was just getting to Sam. So what if the kid wanted to build some kind of father/son relationship out of thin air? Plenty of people in the world wanted that, and he'd wager good money that less than two-thirds of the population got what they bargained for. Drake didn't want it, didn't act like he wanted any part of that sort of life, so he couldn't scrape together enough remorse to feel remotely sorry for what came next.

"Listen kid, I'm only going to say this once: I don't care." The grizzled brunette let the tatted surfer have it. In his mind, this day should have come so much sooner than it had. "You getting it into your thick skull that I'm gonna to show up for you is your problem, not mine. I'm not going to be there for the holidays, I'm not going to look through the baby photos, I have no advice to offer or hugs to give." Sam really was over it and dug the ax deeper into the blonde's hopes. "Scratch that - I do have some advice for ya. Just move on and keep looking. Or better yet, just give up and go home."

On the verge of telling Logan that having a father was an overrated notion anyways, his side pocket vibrated. Despite being half-tempted to just ignore the call and keep at the removal while it was effective, the ex-con knew better, that this really could have been something that required his immediate attention. Fishing the device from the vacuous depths of his borderline obsidian jeans, Sam felt like he had been kicked in the sternum when Chloe's name flashed across the screen. _Note to self, stop thinking about putting the girl in jeopardy, because every time you do, bad shit happens._

Momentarily considering the extent of his wishes on the young woman and how likely anything non-life threatening was to play out, he answered the call and barked gruffly, "What?"

Put off on how short and callous the greeting was, the woman on the other end of the call clicked her tongue. Clearly there were much more pressing matters than catching Sam at a bad time, however rude was still rude. "Hello to you too."

Burnt out with dealing with the blonde, Drake just didn't have it in him to retort back. In fact, on the note of the surfer, when he peered back around the room after putting the phone to his ear, he saw neither hide nor hair of Logan. Only mildly troubled by the man vanishing from sight after being torn into, he put it out of his mind for the time being. "What is it?" The craving for a smoke was still there, however getting all of that nastiness off his chest had considerably improved his mood.

"We have a little problem." Stalking out of the tax office and feeling as if she would need no less than six showers from entering that untested hive of scum, Chloe leaned against the passenger door of the jeep for the next part. "The girl is gone."

"Hello?" Calling out into the subterranean gloom that obscured sound as well as light, Daniella thought she had heard something or someone (she honestly wasn't sure which prospect frightened her more).

More habit than an actual conscious attempt, she tried to raise her hand out and only rattled the limited slack of her shackles. Unable to see in the darkness after what must have been at least two hours of sitting there, either her cuffs had cloth lining and the sleeves of the coat had been rolled back enough to subdue her or the bonds were applied over the flannel. Feeling the light tug of the fabric over her elbows when she flapped her upper extremities outwards, she only knew that she still had the coat on. The same sentiment applied to her ankles as well, only every time she shifted her legs they didn't make a sound, so it was quite possible they were bound with a different kind of material.

Angel's voice cut through the artificial night like a pair of safety scissors through hair - roughly to the point of not at all, and with rounded edges. "Shush up now. Just making sure that you're still live before the boss gets here. You would not believe how many times someone we've taken has tried to bite out their own tongue or strangle themselves trying to escape."

Strangling one's own self attempting to get away was easy enough to picture, especially in a place that was too dark to know what you'd be up against next, but did people actually try to kill themselves by biting off their own tongue?! Alarmed at the notion that other hostages were scared enough to take such an extreme measure, what terrified the heiress even more was how nonchalant Angel was about it. Now that that words had been spoken aloud, she could imagine how unclean and gory her seat would have been in the light.

Doing her best to not let on how horrified she was by the predicament, Daniella tried to stay strong and be rational about her captivity. _This isn't a movie, this is just a scare tactic. This isn't a book, this was just a rouse._ Repeating the mantra over and over in her mind, she spoke around the lump that was forming in the back of her throat with as much authority as she could muster, just like Mama explained she had done in the video. Rewinding to the past, that was probably not a real hostage situation and just another sex tape...

"How are you able to know? About me I mean." The teen was quick to amend her question before her jailer went into detail that would have undoubtedly made her sick. Sicker even than reflecting on all the things she'd seen in her young life.

Nail tapping against something of a sturdy plastic nature, Angel explained calmly, "Night vision. You know," close enough to the young woman for her to hear arms folding over an open button-up, the hipster leaned against the chair confining the girl and confirmed by the squeak of the furniture that it was made of wood, "I'm impressed. Ashley didn't think that you would last this long without crying. The shit that was laced into the weed took us a while to build an immunity to, but you went down so quick I thought you might have OD'd. Glad you didn't though."

Considering how much was being given away, she hoped that it wasn't too much to ask for that she could get a little more. Maybe this was just a sloppy outfit (they obviously had done this too many times to be considered newbies), but it seemed to the prisoner that Angel genuinely liked her for whatever reason. "Why?"

Ah, the most commonly asked question of any kidnapping ever. _Why_. Bringing a hand up that had no less than one ring per finger to caress the teen's cheek, Angel brushed Daniella's cracked lips with a thumb decked in a splendid silver spike. With the limb that wasn't cupping her face, the hipster tucked the hair that had fallen loose of its messy bun back behind her ear. Catching sight of the swallow that matched Ashley's, Angel kissed the ink tenderly before balling up a fist and slugging the girl in the jaw. _There was nothing on the planet more annoying than a captive thinking they had the right to know why they had been chosen_.

"It would have been our necks." Delivery flat, Angel shoved her head away. "Our boss really has an interest in you. As Ashley would tell you, we're a bit attached to our skins."

Going away from the chair from what she could tell, Angel picked something metallic up off a different wooden surface and carried it back. If Daniella was in any way doubtful about what kind of operation this was or if the hipster meant business, the glacial kiss of steal against her skin put the matter to rest once and for all.


	19. Priorities of the -Ists

**\- Chapter Seventeen -**

 **Priorities of the -Ists**

Number appearing on the screen a cruel kick on a downed dog - not that Drake would consider himself either down or the dog in the analogy - the chipper chirps taunted the man. Worried more about his colleagues attempting to get a cut from the job than their general wellbeing for getting too close, he was on the fence about getting anyone else involved. Okay, so maybe he might have been a little bothered by the risk, but he would only own up to the phoning in of a friend as being another person too many for his taste. Although presuming that the caller id was to be believed, if the topic even came up this particular individual wasn't going to be in it for the money.

Answering the phone by the third ring, the brunette was in the process of grabbing the spare keys to the bike. There was an itch nagging in the back of the explorer's mind, telling him to bring the helmet for when he saved Sleeping Beauty yet again, however there was a minor issue remembering where it was stored last. Though there were no immediate tells that this was going to be a bad situation, it was a safe bet to assume that time was not their friend on this one.

"Yes, little brother?" Keys rattling as he lifted them from the brass hook, the veteran thief just as easily could have been addressing his sister-in-law or niece. All the same, Samuel was confident in the identity of his conversational companion.

Caught half-way through yelling something in the background (the most likely culprits behind the shouting being either Vicky or Cassie), Nathan missed most of the salutation. Yet knowing his sibling as well as he did, he had heard more than enough to glean from his brother's tone that something was up. Cranky as the older man could get from the withdrawals, Nate didn't immediately think that anything serious was amiss, although to be fair, it was never right to just jump to conclusions.

Far from life or death, the last time he had heard the same gruff cut in the final begrudging syllable of 'brother', Sam had lost a hundred and fifty dollars betting on the outcome of Cassie's soccer game. To be exact, they weren't wagering on if the girl's team would win or lose - they were tracking the odds on if the impromptu neighborhood skirmish would see any skin. Sun blazing overhead, there had been a lot of teensy string bikinis in the crowd that had assembled, drinks were flowing more freely the longer the day wore on, and one of the lonely mother's had been amply endowed and played it up for such occasions.

Nathan might have won the pool when nothing slipped out of place, but he had definitely lost the right to sleeping in a warm bed when his wife caught the transaction and heard the subsequent and poorly stated explanation. For the first night of his banishment, getting to spend the weekend with Sam was reward enough to endure the sofa, but by day three...

On the last night of his brother's stay, Elena had even brought out the really sexy stuff just to tease him with what he was missing out on. _Nate really loved her in the purple one, and she knew it - why did she have to hurt him like that?_

"So any thought on what you're bringing to your niece's party?"

Presently at the store with the family, the father of one picked up the dish towels Elena had commented on liking the one time they didn't even need a new set. Somehow it never failed that they could find everything they could ever want when they had no reason to buy it, but once the requirement arose, it became a struggle and a half. Frankly it was worse than getting pinned down between an armored foe with a heavy shotgun and a patrol unit with only two clips left. _Stupid dish towels..._

Mediterranean blue eyes narrowing at the cart full of everyday household items on his list, the younger Drake brother was still secretly sore that he had been overruled on having the party at the laser tag place. Teenage him would have been so psyched for the opportunity, and it wasn't like Cassie wouldn't have had fun, but _no_ , she had to go and pick having a more conservative get together at the park. Barbecue was good too, but come on, they always had a blast going to the laser tag place! If he found out she had broken her old man's heart just for street cred - or worse, a boy - he just didn't know how he was going to get passed that. It was hard enough just accepting that she was getting older.

Elena had to keep reminding him that this wasn't his birthday, and he would retort that he could say the same to her. At the core the only difference between the couple was that she made no secret that she would straight out make your life a living hell if you didn't RSVP, while he wouldn't say anything until after the fact. In the end though, while they were both focused on various aspects of the impending festivities, they really just wanted what would make their daughter happiest.

With everything that had been going on lately, a celebration of any nature just wasn't on the list of priorities. Maybe once the heiress was contained and under his thumb, but to be perfectly frank the ex-con just wasn't sure how jazzed he could get. Sure, he'd enjoy himself and the chance to relax and just spend some time with his family, but it wasn't just going to be the family: Cassie was one thing, but Sam wasn't prepared to face a whole hoard of preteen girls. Dealing with one fully-fledged teen was turning out to be taxing enough.

Having said that, Sam had been spending some of his downtime thinking about what he would get for Cassie this year. Female and not too different in age from his niece, he had even considered asking the heiress about what she thought would make a good gift, but somehow he never got around to broaching the topic. Anyone on the page of him wanting more from the heiress than he should would have over-analyzed it and point out that he was probably reluctant to draw attention to the razor-thin age difference between the girls. In his mind he never brought it up because the teen would probably only know million dollar perfumes that were topped with actual diamonds and were locked away in secure vaults. Nothing the five-finger discount couldn't apply to, but hardly the kind of thing that Cassie would be interested in.

Or maybe he still was generalizing too much. Daniella might have had the best answer ever, and his niece could have finally hit that obnoxious stage were she overcompensated in showing her guy friends that she could be as feminine as the next girl. He remembered being that age, needlessly insulting the girl he had really liked and somehow ending up with her less cute friend. Too much make-up had ruined many a pretty face and all the perfume the girls wore was enough to make anyone go nose blind to vanilla and cupcakes. Thankfully that had only been a temporary effect, but the jailbird maintained that it could have been permanent.

Alas, there was no other cure for that period but time and experience, so if that switch had flipped his niece was as good as a lost cause for as long as she tried to be what she wasn't. In terms of where the heiress was concerned, once she had been saved for the seven millionth time and they were on the road, perhaps he could be bothered to have an actual conversation with the young woman. Or they could just stare silently at the walls. Somehow he had the feeling she would much rather just keep to herself.

"Well," a good brother wouldn't leave a statement like that hanging naked in the air, "I hear that Trinity has gone on to earn her degree in political science, so she's out saving the world one vote at time, but Riza should be available." Seriously, he was still impressed that Trinity Chi (not her real name) had gone on to graduate from college and leave the game behind. He would miss her.

Nathan almost drove his cart into an aisle display of breakfast cereal. Actually, as he looked at the rattled tiers of cardboard and sugar he saw that it wasn't a bad sale, so he picked up the box that he had nearly rammed into and tossed it into the rectangular basket on top of the kitchen timer and the cartons of lemon-scented bleach he'd picked up. The lemon didn't seem to do anything from what he could tell - it just made the chemical smell better and the air sing with citrus.

Joke so funny that the younger brother almost forgot to laugh, it was tough to say which parent would be the least amused by the elder Drake showing up with an escort. Of all the call girls his brother knew, Trinity hadn't been so bad, and what was more was that she had had the grace to handle Cass and not overstay her welcome. "Ha ha," he quipped as he checked on his list, "I thought Elena made it clear that you aren't allowed to bring any more plus ones?"

If his little brother was referring to the incident on Halloween, he really needed to let that go - seriously, you show up with a hooker one time, and the little punk never lets you hear the end of it. Cassie had been too young to recall that night for one thing, and for another the 31st of October was the one time a year that it was socially acceptable to blur the line between a professional and pretty much anyone that lacked a Y chromosome. Obviously there were exceptions, such as his sister, but those with the same level of self-respect were far and few between. It had to have been self-respect, because he never got the vibe that the blonde lacked for confidence. The point was, no one was going to know the difference at a glance.

Regardless, to his credit Samuel got a lot better at keeping that part of his life away from his niece as she aged. Snatching the keys from the wall, he was tempted to remind his little brother that there had once been a time when he too had enjoyed scantily clad women, however if they went down that road nothing would get accomplished. The active thief very much wanted to be able to cash in the substantial reward he was being promised.

Nixing the search for the helmet, the brunette scribbled a quick note to the delivery guy to leave the goods and slapped it on the cracked concrete support by the loading door. He'd closed shop back when Chloe made the decision to bring in outside help, but everything had become such a blur of movement at that point he was only just now getting around to the matter of the delivery. Their guy knew the drill for when no one was home, but he appreciated some warning that no one was going to be in to sign; a happy deliveryman meant less damage down the line, so it was a small enough price to pay.

"Hey, give your big brother some credit!" Juggling the phone around as he slipped into his coat, the explorer extraordinaire felt it prudent to defend himself, even if that meant bringing up last year, "If you care to remember, my last party foul had nothing to do with a plus one." Although even if it had... "We both know that my niece would forgive her favorite uncle."

Nathan was quick to point out, "Sam, you're her only uncle."

"Be that as it may," ears perking at the sound of something falling over in a nearby room, he dismissed the noise as a family of rats making themselves comfortable, "I'll be there." Actually a really good uncle to the girl thanks in large to the advent of technology, Sam wouldn't miss the party if he could help it, yet he could make no promises about coming alone. For all he knew, he'd still be stuck guarding the heiress.

Speaking of the modern American royalty, Nathan caught something else in his brother's voice. "Hey, what's going on Sam?"

Ansy haste to get the girl back slipping through, with so many things to say to that prompt the truth hardly seemed like something to add to the list. His little brother didn't need to know that a young woman was missing in action, because he was the kind that would take it personally and want to help, even though he was retired from that world. Instead he danced around the question and got an idea that should have came to him a lot quicker than it did, "Is the wife around?"

Elena, being plugged in like she was, probably had heard something from her journalist buddies about the going ons in the city. Being the protective mother bear that she was, it was almost a guarantee that she had some inkling about any nearby trafficking setups that favored young females. Or just kids in general. Point was, if anyone knew anything that could be of assistance in this matter, it was most likely going to be her.

Nathan was suspicious of the sudden inquiry - something must have been up, if his brother was asking for Elena. They got on well, so it wasn't unheard of for them to chat between themselves, but his big brother wasn't going to ever be responsible for blowing up their phone bill. "Seriously Sam, what's going on? I haven't been able to get in touch with Sully the last few times I tried, and now you want to talk to my wife?"

"Victor's fine, he's just helping out a client overseas." If you could call the harpy something so civil.

Though the ex-con's tolerance for the bespectacled woman was at its absolute limit, from what he had heard the work itself didn't seem so bad. Basically it was just gathering intelligence and sitting pretty on an extended stakeout. No amount of beach-side service or five-star hotels could begin to make up for having to stomach Bai, but thankfully he'd never had nor would have to be stuck with the shrew for that long a time without the option of walking away. Honestly Rafe deserved a medal for coming as close to loving the woman as he did, because Sam could only imagine what a nightmare it must have been to be in any kind of relationship with her. _Urgh, and poor Dells had to be raised by the woman._

Marching passed the aisles he needed at half a sprint to honor the request to put his wife on the line - as opposed to them hanging up on each other and Sam just calling Elena himself - Nathan used this window to grill his brother. It was clear that Samuel was working some kind of a job if you put together the way it sounded like his attention was pulling him elsewhere, and it must have paid really well if he was putting so much effort in. Building on that, to be seeking Elena's expertise, it had to have been major.

Naturally there was only one way to proceed with the dialogue, "You're looking for someone, aren't you? I hate to tell you this, but you probably don't want to see behind the red curtain. Just give her up as an infatuation, it'll only end in tears otherwise."

Oh, for the love of Christ, did he really have to listen to this from Nathan too?! Growling to himself, he sat on the bike but made no move to start the engine yet. _And this is what I get for being a professional here_!Too close to the situation to remember that his little brother had no idea who he was working for or what the job actually entailed, the tattooed thief snapped into the receiver, "Jesus, let's get something straight here, she's on the cusp of eighteen!"

Cell passed over half-way through his denial of having nefarious intent towards the breathing cargo, Elena blinked. "Wow." Almost positive that she didn't want to know what that was about, she set back both jars of marinara sauce she'd been comparing. "So glad I could hear that out of context."

"No, I was just telling my little brother-"

Busting chops easier than opening up whatever battle her brother-in-law was fighting with himself, the woman was one step ahead. The daughter of Rafe Adler had been a hot topic on the news of late, due largely to the fact that at least two locations tied to her had been attacked by some kind of extremist, and she had vanished without a trace. While there was no concrete evidence to think that Sam was involved in any of it, she took into account the fact that the Drake brothers had both been involved with Rafe prior to his death, and one of them was still active in the field. Wen Bai had made a televised appearance at work to assure her board members that she was fine, either she was the most callous, uncaring mother in the world, or she had her daughter secured somewhere safe. The word "safe" was loosely relative and rarely applicable when it came to the ex-con, however if Elena's hunch was correct, she knew that Daniella was in good hands.

"What? That you want to make a pass at Rafe's daughter?" Picture plastered all over the place to a degree that might have seemed suspect to someone with a suspicious mind, Elena knew of the girl that looked almost exactly like her father, however she never wanted to put two-and-two together. For Nate's sake. He tried to save Rafe on the _Fancy_ , so he didn't need to feel guilty for Daniella.

Able to really only hear his wife's side of the conversation, Nathan exclaimed in surprise, "That psycho had a kid?!" The outburst earned a good five stares and a scowl from the employee stocking the shelves with condiments. Grinning sheepishly at the pimple-faced stockperson, the younger Drake looked back at his wife when he saw he wasn't winning any points with the staff. "How the mighty have fallen." Somehow it was fitting that the multi-billionaire's progeny had become a stripper, even more so if that scary shadow lady was the mother.

Screw it, just screw it. Skinny little stick-legs and billion dollar ass notwithstanding, the elder Drake was done denying the accusations that he had some (not so) secret desire to take the heiress and show her what was what. While limiting their sick imaginations to what they assumed was only a desire and not a reality, the man was over making any future attempts at straightening out the speculation. If they didn't dance or if they ever did, it was between them and no one else.

"Her mother believes she's being targeted by conspirators that doubt the 'legality of her title'-"

Motioning to her spouse to pick out a sauce for the spaghetti while she spoke, the blonde could scarcely fathom how anyone could doubt that Daniella was who she claimed to be. The evidence was plain on her face! "That's ridiculous - she looks just like Rafe!"

As if Samuel needed to be reminded of that fact. "Oh, it gets better." Mindful of the cause, it would have been more helpful to Elena if she knew certain details so that she could be better informed of who to pay closer attention to and who to gloss over on the suspect list. "Turns out mommy dearest made some deals that wouldn't exactly fly here in the States. With - get this - her own father." From the intake of breath he heard on the other side of the line, he could tell that she put two and two together to make four.

Wen was a common enough surname that it wasn't appropriate to just jump to the conclusion that the woman that had taken over for the Adler family was related in any way related to Wen Zhihao, but it would seem that the Mountain Master had a daughter not only living in America but thriving. Thinking about the situation and the area Sam mentioned after Nate's outburst, the former investigative journalist had no doubt in her mind. "That sounds like Orange Tiger Association."

"So Triad."

Of the two factions after the girl, he wasn't sure which he savored the idea of the least. With organized crime came numbers, however there wasn't much information about who the suits had hired. Bai had been able to suss out that it was a newer organization still trying to establish itself, and she had an educated guess on who it was based on recent contracts completed, yet there was no knowing for sure at that point.

"Not necessarily. They aren't a part of the triad as we tend to think of it, Orange Tiger Association is actually a mainland Chinese criminal organization. The Dragon Head has built quite the empire and is said to oversee all mainland operations, however Wen Zhihao doesn't keep particularly close tabs on his foreign territories. Typically he leaves that to his Deputy Mountain Master, Pan Yahui." Strictly speaking, Elena was only so up-to-date because it wasn't that long ago that they had been working off the coast of Hong Kong. Thankfully that had been a relatively uneventful adventure (it was good for Cassie to learn that not everything would be a successful venture), but she didn't regret doing the research.

Bai had painted a grim picture before leaving to initiate her own plan, which she claimed would see this end peacefully, but considering who she had thrown her lot in with, the expert historian doubted she even knew the meaning of the word. Forced to postpone her own crusade long enough to give her daughter back some of the blood she had lost in the pool accident, the businesswoman had mentioned something about tigers, so this was clearly the people he should have been protecting Dells from. While it now went without saying that the heiress was in danger, she hadn't been gone long enough yet to have been shipped off, but with her luck anything could have befallen the young woman by this point.

"Scream for me," Angel's voice was a low hum against the shell of the young woman's ear, "I get so bored, and trust us love, you don't want to see me get bored." The unseen knife cutting through cloth and flesh indiscriminately hurt, but the things that Angel had said buried deep within her mind and were unlikely to ever heal right. If Angel was saying that it could only get worse from here, she believed that it could. "Or maybe you do."

Eyes shutting tight to guard against whatever was coming next - despite the utter lack of visibility - Daniella felt herself choking on her own tongue. She learned quickly how much Angel loathed to be asked why, and the hipster was clearly enjoying themselves too much to heed her feeble pleas to stop, so she could only whimper in response. "Whhaa?"

Unseen smirk lighting a smooth cheek, the gentle nuzzle ended with a playful nibble, "Mommy missed some of the tapes. If she had been caught fucking anyone else but daddy, it would have made for some really riveting blackmail. While I respect that she was so faithful to one person, I must confess myself disappointed that the boss doesn't want the family name to be besmirched further." Setting the blade down to pick up the salve that would help with the scarring, Angel decided that it was time to give her body another break so that the suffering didn't peak too soon. "I just have to wonder how far the apple fell from the tree."

Hand coming down hard on the surgical-like wounds inflicted out of a lethal combination of unreasonable hatred and sheer listlessness, Angel let out a sudden gasp, as if remembering something, "Oh! Where is my head? An uptight little virgin like you wouldn't know just how kinky they are, would they?"

Out of nowhere, a hand was caressing the back of her neck, and it wasn't Angel. "But you've thought about it." Ashely, whom had been sitting silent as Angel played, whispered something in the ear of the other. Appreciative titter earned, Ash turned back to the teen, "You probably have mommy and daddy beat, don't you? There's no way that a rich little loner doesn't lash out some how, somewhere." Thumb rubbing circles against her vertebrae, the touch was getting rougher and rougher with each pass. "You smell like a cutter. If we were to rip your clothes off now, I bet we'd still have to search for the marks. Drip drip, bitch."


	20. The Magical Number

**\- Chapter Eighteen -**

 **The Magical Number**

"If I asked you who on this wide earth you wanted to see one last time, who would you say?"

Proper procedure ignored as the gauze was wrapped tight enough to cut the circulation off, Angel could be heard turning around, presumably to gaze at Ashley. Communication shared via expression or telepathy, the more dangerous of the two opted to share with the prisoner. "Our stories aren't so original that that it's some shocking thing that we ended up where we did in life, I'll give you that. My mom abandoned the family when I was just a kid, and I never knew my father. Grandmother tried to raise me right, but my antics had the state dragged into it. For Ash, it was a case of small town equals smaller minds. It was rough going for a long time, yet we found each other in the city. But you..." Angel trailed off thoughtfully as the patch job was completed.

Tourniquet by far the most confining part of the situation, her tormentors made it no secret that she was only tasting actual medical care because the call had come in from above to prepare the captive for the boss. Hopefully whoever this young leader was, they didn't mind their slave-wives broken, because apart from all the scars she was collecting, Daniella had been clutching the blunt arm of the chair for dear life and had come through the other side short one nail. The heiress had no clue if anything she was being told was true, and frankly she didn't care - she just wanted it to stop. Although, she was almost just as terrified of what came next.

Weary of anyone who might try to undermine the bond of their relationship and possessing that short of an attention span, Ashley had made a throne of the teen's lap and was sitting leisurely while driving a spike of some kind into her shoulder. Optimistic about the future to keep from crumbling entirely, the heiress could tell by the way the metal went in that there would be a mark under her collarbone. Among the indecisive movements and other flaws of the tattooed jailer, there was also a propensity for baby talk, "Angel's right, who would you pick? As easy as you were to gather intelligence on, you really don't leave very many crumbs in your wake."

Bratty selfish teenager inside coming to the forefront, the first thing she wanted to say was that she didn't have anyone she cared enough about to bother seeing again. Her body had gone through too much to waste the energy on being so juvenile, and though the decision had been made long before she understood what it was to hurt so bad, she wanted her last words to be more original than that. So if she had that chance to see anyone in the world before she left for good, who would it be?

As ever, her mind jumped to the dream of the father she never had, but they would probably want to hear something more substantial than a ghost. And... Either the wound of learning that her mother was willing to trade her own daughter for the hollow life they led was too fresh, or it would never recover, because Daniella couldn't even bring herself to consider the woman. Her mind had even blipped over such shallow friends in the past as Carissa, but not her own mother.

 _Maybe Shen?_ Her stepfather had made her the person she was today, that was true, and she missed him terribly, so it should have been his name to come to her lips. It was as petty as it was puerile to hold someone to a promise they had made before she had been old enough to really understand the concept of mortality, she knew that deep down, but the vow had been broken all the same. Special and shattering in measure, because he had disappeared on her after swearing that he would always be there, the first major pact of her existence had left an impact that she still couldn't fully understand.

Jaded by more than one man of significance in her life, Jay's face swam before her eyes for a moment, but instead of a tender moment it was only the day he'd made her the teacher's assistant as an excuse to keep her close. Beneath his tutelage, it hadn't taken her long to learn how to be discreet, even in public places.

Willing to branch out, she wouldn't even get her hopes up that the cute girl in economics had so much as ever looked in her direction before.

Clocks in short supply wherever they were, she could hear from the impatient noises the pair were making in the pitch blackness that they were waiting for her answer. Aware of the fine edge she walked, she turned her thoughts to the new "friends" she had made.

If she were to visualize the people in her life as pictures in a yearbook, Logan was the square that had been scribbled out completely after little holes had been poked into the eyes. Chloe would have been bordered in stars and had little hearts and sparkles to denote that she was both kind of awesome and totally doable. She'd only met Mr. Sullivan the one time, so his picture would have been left blank and shoved back towards the back, where the faculty were listed. With all the new faces she had become acquainted with, that only left Sam.

Mr. Drake was... he had... There was a lot she could say about how grateful she was that he had saved her, but honestly she didn't have much else to add. If... No, when, she made it out of this, she'd like to have an honest conversation with him. Frankly she was mad at herself for squandering all of the opportunities she'd had to engage with him so far, but it was beyond her skills to get more than one word out after she'd overheard him with Chloe. The one time she almost came close to opening up, a dead rat had fallen from the ceiling and landed with a wet thump on her lap.

Tongue curving around a soft 's', Daniella realized that she had alluded to some kind of fake relationship with her temporary custodian to sound more protected than what she had been, yet she couldn't bring herself to say his name now. Lying had come so much easier before she knew that her life was in jeopardy, and she had no idea why.

Deep down - like way down to the weightless depths of her soul - a part of her had secretly hoped that maybe the man could have been the one to break the cycle, to actually care for her where no one else did. It certainly wasn't helping that her mind was equating him saving her skin as meaning more than not wanting to be blamed for her death, no matter how many hours she spent at night trying to tell herself otherwise. Honestly, it was almost getting to the point where she couldn't fall asleep without hearing a loop of 'I'm just a job'. By all rights everything should have been shot all to shit when he had been left no other alternative than to resort to feeding her like an infant, and it probably would have, if Logan hadn't shown up when he did.

Taking too long to answer, Ashley moved around and wrapped an elbow around the teen's neck, "Thankfully for you, we're all under orders to not kill you. Unfortunately for you, there's only so much the boss needs you for. Right, Angel kisses?" Devolving to the cutesy couple bit, Ash pulled Angel in for a long, deep kiss.

Literally reduced to furniture at that point, Daniella was shocked she could still feel uncomfortable with being that close to a display of open intimacy after what they had done to her.

Question resonating with some secret part of herself that had become shriveled and hollow from neglect, the heiress could only conclude that the original inquiry fell in line with what she wanted most in the world. But was she really so desperate for acceptance that she was willing to get it where she could, even if that meant that she had to delude herself into getting it? The answer was as sickening as it was obvious, however it made her feel a hair better about what all she had let Jay get away with. Not that anything could actually make it better.

Chomping teeth at Ashley with the unspoken prospect of coming in for more, Angel finished the lover's train of thought with a threat and a sharp tap to the wintry crown that had become skewed from all the thrashing the hostage was doing, "Give us an answer, or it won't be much longer before you could fit in nicely at a museum."

"N-no one." It sounded as honest as it felt in her gut.

While Angle detested guessing games and was one of the rare few that liked to not always have an answer, Ashley was intrigued by the prospect of a new activity. "Angel, knife. Bitch, hand." Taking Daniella's left hand and the knife that had previously been caught between fat and flesh, Ashley cut a thin line that was nothing next to the others. "I'm going to guess who she's lying about, and every time I don't get an answer I like, princess here is going to get another. If I don't get it in five guesses," Ash changed from laying out the rules in general to speaking directly to the heiress, "you're down a finger." Tone going from threatening to mocking, another line bit deeper to prove that this wasn't a laughing matter. "I'd ask you which is your favorite, but we both know that such lewd things are below your station."

Shows what they knew. But she wasn't about to antagonize the duo.

Dossier on the young woman mandated reading for all the peons, they knew all about the teen and her known associates, down to the new babysitter. Granted, the intel they had been able to grab thinned considerably at that point. Just for the fun of it, Ashley threw out what was obviously going to be a wrong answer. "The famous surfer and father-to-be, Logan Savage." The news had broken about three months ago was was a matter of public record, yet somehow in all the time she'd been couped up with the man, it had never occurred to her to connect those dots. "Not really my type, but I can see why he's so popular."

Just as jealous over the other half of the coin, Angel snorted in an angry huff.

Eye roll audible even from behind what must have been high-tech goggles, it sounded like not everything was sunshine and daisies. "Babe, you heard me say he wasn't my type, right?" Without an answer from the girl either way, the blade cut deeper into the same finger as the previous two blows. "Not quite your type either, is he? I'm not saying you have a thing for dinosaurs, I'm just saying that you clearly like them seasoned. True, he covers that criteria, but blondie falls short in the brain department, yeah?"

No, they couldn't have known about Jay... Right?

Literally shaking their heads, both of the hipsters had to sigh in disapproving fashions, although it was Angel that took the lead on this one. "You know, when we managed to get a hold of your information, it was just a matter of simple math to figure out that you had a little something on the side. If I had been in charge, I would have just let you have this one secret, but I'm not the one calling the shots around here. The boss was adamant to get to know every last detail about you, however our tech department had a really hard time finding this one. I'd say that our guy had all but given up, but that wouldn't be true - in the end he just had to run simple facial recognition. You sure weren't shy showing the traffic cam your pearly whites when you volunteered to help your professor get supplies for a class project that day."

"For shame." Chiming in, Ashley yanked on the teen's wrist and targeted a different finger for this one. "It's funny how much policy can change in just a few short years. Obviously I'm with my soul mate now, but back in high school... Man!" Grunting and all but salivating at the memories, the story was almost drowned out by the sudden scream that rent the air. "I had this one teacher I would have killed to bang! All those stories about teachers getting caught having affairs with students, and now this! Guess I just went to the wrong school."

Suspicious of what that was supposed to mean, Angel clarified, "Why did she get that cut? Are you really _that_ jealous? Huh?"

Jabbing the knife down into Daniella's hand so it wouldn't fall, Ashley moved over to assure Angel that they had everything and more. It might have been sweet if it wasn't so twisted and she was on the receiving end. "Her royal slutness might have gotten an idea about getting clever. We all know that her teacher is banging half the class." Translation: Jay wasn't worth more to the situation than what had happened in middle school. "Princess here is a tender little flower that needs more attention than that. Like someone else I know." There was another kiss between the two, but this one was more of a short check on the cheek. "Not you, but someone."

There was the sound of a hefty and sudden slap, followed shortly after by a surprised gasp. "Not me? Really? You obviously mean me. Really? How stupid would I have to be to buy that tone?!" Angel was on the warpath. "I have to watch greasy little hosebags try to get better deals from you on the daily, and then you have the gall to yell at me for staying an extra twenty minutes at the bar? I'm sorry I don't just chug my beer! Some of us actually like to enjoy ourselves." From the sound the plastic made, she would guess that one of the two hipsters had cocked their head. "I give you the benefit of the doubt when you want to head out early, but I'm not letting you ruin this for me. Just like you ruined my friendship with Vee. She was good to me, long before you entered the picture."

It sounded like a lot of little issues had been brewing and bubbling below the surface for a while now. If she could have Daniella would have excused herself from the scene so they could talk, however being tied down to the chair still, that wasn't an option. Silence would have been the prudent answer, but... "It's not Jay..."

Ashley (or Angel for that matter) could have backhanded her and told her to shut up, but instead they prompted the girl to go on. "That's two. So?"

Rules permitting her to offer up her own suggestion from what she understood of the game, the heiress supplied her own answer to keep from losing a finger. "You already know, don't you? You just want to hear me say it." If buying time to keep them at bay until the boss came to collect whatever it was that he wanted from her was the plan, it would have been better to just let them fight it out. Again, the smart answer wasn't always the first one to present itself.

Leering at one another from the pregnant pause that hung heavy in the chilly air, they played along, curious to know where she thought she was going to go with this. "Go on."

Honestly, she wasn't expecting to get this far. Clearly she didn't want to pay the penalty, however with the way the couple was revealing the tatters just below the outside seams, her best hope had been that one of them might shut her up so they could have at it. Apparently that wasn't going to be the case. _Because why would it be?_

Even if it was slapping her in the face, Daniella wasn't going to give the easy answer.

If this was for anyone else but the three of them, this might have been the part where the heiress acknowledged that if she were a bolder soul, she might have tried to make the accusations true. Based solely on looks, Mr. Drake wasn't unfortunate looking (she could only imagine what he had looked like when he was younger), however short of having a mole at the safe house, there was no way they could have known the extent of the situation with Sam. Her even thinking of him now was clearly only because she had come to consider him to be some kind of knight in shining armor.

For all her desire to be wanted by someone, she didn't know how to move beyond a physical attraction, and even then she needed something deeper, just like Ashley said. Given the option day one of presenting herself for a grade, she declined to do anything more until she felt comfortable. It was a tedious process, but Jay respected her boundaries (and the fact that she was doing the work and earning her own marks). Praying for better restraint in the future, the young woman liked to think that at a minimum she would maintain that same level of self-respect with anyone that she had her eye on.

Again, maybe if she was braver and wired differently, maybe when this was all said and done it would be worth examining closer, but by that point a part of her hoped that they would be in a place that would just make romantic intimacy awkward and strange. _And the other half?_ If she were to answer for herself, the only thing should could have admitted about Mr. Drake was that she couldn't stop thinking about him pulling her from the water. _The heroism and the halo..._

"My dad." Shen too, but this answer wasn't the full truth: it was what she thought they wanted to hear, remixed from selections of the truth. "You seem to know everything about me, but do you know how my mom would discipline me? She would play old tapes." Vision plagued by a human drum that had been struck until it was red, her voice broke and she sounded a million miles away. "Not the whole thing, obviously, but she would show me recordings of my dad spanking her, and she told me to pretend that that was me. It was innocent enough, until the day came where I accidentally saw more than she intended."


	21. Nine Out Of Ten Thieves Agree

**\- Chapter Nineteen -**

 **Nine Out Of Ten Thieves Agree**

As valuable a source of information as ever, he thanked his sister-in-law for her wisdom before getting off the phone. Orange Tiger Association, Triad, whatever the hell they wanted to identify as, he didn't like the situation, and he liked it even less that they might not have even been behind this. It went without saying that cities were dangerous places, but to add in a manhunt that seemed to be gathering more and more competition the longer things went on... That only served to complicate a situation that started as more than a smidge screwed up. A virtual bullseye for any amateur to pray upon, his naive little fish had gone from a pond with two predators to the whole damn ocean thanks to the idiots in the media.

For the record, those very same idiots should have been selling whatever crap Bai wanted the masses to believe.

Engine purring to life like the throaty whisper of a familiar lover beneath him, Sam took a final look back at the safe house before peeling out. Knowing the pawn shop where Dells had last been seen well enough, the best route would take him into a side street that was inaccessible for the jeep and would basically land him a few streets shy of where Chloe had lost the teen. Having the foresight to collect the supplies in case they had to make a quick escape from the concrete jungle - and considering how things had been going, that wasn't a particularly far stretch of the imagination - he still couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting something. Shaking his head at a fleeting notion, he closed his dark eyes for a moment before ignoring the gnawing sensation in his gut and gunned it.

Narrow walkways between rundown converted housing and various (mostly illegal) operations slanted inwards against the worst of the wind as it picked up, sepia-tone buildings and flooded streets all passed in a hazy blueish-blur as he cut through. Not a single face amongst the bundles of splinters and cheap steel, largely due to the hour, Sam allowed himself a moment to enjoy the damp yet biting breeze that blew through his hair and mussed with his collar.

Technically speaking the band of not-so-merry men weren't on lock down, so going outside was a very real and available possibility while Dells recuperated, however he had been so preoccupied with her wellbeing that he hadn't really taken full advantage. Billed as overtime, because he was trying his damnedest to protect his investment there was only so far he'd been willing to venture those first days. Subsequently, by the end there everyone felt glommed together, like they were all in hiding and just biding their time until they could move on with their lives. And as the days grew longer and longer in their relative isolation, the less booze there was on hand, the worse the feeling got.

Or maybe that was just him.

Surveillance tapes perhaps the best bet they had, one of the biggest obstacles to the lead was that the nearest camera was on the far end of the street where the road opened into a busier traffic flow. Even under the best of circumstances, getting the footage was going to take several minutes - surprisingly, the neighborhood wi-fi wasn't the greatest around. Chloe fully expected to have the video up on her phone before Drake had the chance to join the search party, however with each passing moment that it took to buffer, she was getting a little less sure.

Good thing they hadn't put any money down on it.

Nadine's pacing wasn't helping. Actually, speaking of things that the professional pickpocket/driver was not counting on was seeing her partner - the woman wasn't supposed to be in town for another day or two at best. Less for Sam's sake and more because she was concerned that the poolside head injury had brought out some beastly rage monster in the heiress, the woman had dialed a few contacts to get the word out about an important missing person. Not to diminish real missing persons cases, this was just rather personal for her associates.

"This is taking forever." The funniest thing about Ross and technology was that it couldn't be cowed into obeying her short fuse, although Frazer noted that there seemed to be more understanding for systems than for people. "I still think I should go over there and ask again-"

"Ask who?" Raising a thick brow at the other woman as she spun about on her heel for the umpteenth time, Chloe wished that the other would just sit down again, but apparently that window had closed. "The poor boy who almost had his brains bashed in? Oh yes, that's a lovely idea."

Name tag splattered with red, the young man had been loaded into a gurney and was currently on his way to the nearest hospital to see to the wounds, and the cops were all over the scene, getting statements about the victim. There had been one or two inquires into his assailant, yet once the authorities realized who it was that had attacked the young man, the topic had been dropped faster than you could say 'on the take'. Common sense might dictate that the police were lost in the Adler family wallet like so many others, however they just have easily could have been in anyone's back pocket, or even served multiple masters. Either way, neither woman wanted to take that chance, so they had agreed to make themselves scarce to gather intelligence discreetly.

Journey taking them from the laundromat to the one place that seemed like the real money-maker on the street, Chloe had nibbled absently on her food while she herself was already down to the crust; the pizza wasn't terrible, but it wasn't great either. Near the area in the first place to have a look at some rugs for her new apartment, Nadine had been on her way to a fire sale when she'd answered the summons. Initially she was sympathetic to hearing that a young girl had simply vanished off the street without a trace, yet hearing the identity of the girl changed everything.

Rafe...

Just thinking his name caused a knot to form in her stomach, and remembering that time in her life caused the rest of her insides to perform amazing feats the likes of which mankind had never seen before. First and foremost, there was only Shoreline and her struggle to prove not only the company but herself as both a leader and as a person. Scouted, vetted, and hired by a woman named Wen Bai on behalf of her employer, it had all started out as just a job, but as happened in these confined working situations, things happened that weren't exactly foreseeable.

Despite being able to bond over the fact that they were daughters raised in a man's world, the bespectacled woman came to view Nadine with resentment when Rafe began to prioritize the hunt for Avery's treasure over his "day job". Nadine one of the few around to see the situation rationally, Bai had been promoted for all her hard work and was in fact in a position few enough could achieve in their lifetime, yet she had been ruled by jealousy and didn't see it that way. Wen Bai was the stand-in and acting head, a link between the boss and the business, and Nadine Ross was his equal in their collaboration, his partner. Seeing it from the other person's perspective, it was understandable why that rankled.

Further adding insult to injury was the addition of Sam Drake into the equation - while both women had enjoyed a taste of what it was to be in absolute command without anyone to hinder them, the thief ultimately had replaced them both. Sure, Rafe would humor Nadine in most situations - especially while in public or when her armed men were around - however it was clear to see who held the real sway. Bai wasn't without say where she needed to be concerned, but with business slipping farther and father back in the operation, that didn't mean what it once had. As Drake had put it, one might assume that the cock in the hen house might strengthen their bond; in some ways it had, yet it wasn't enough. The fact they would never really be friends was nothing to mourn, especially when situations changed once more and Daniella was born.

But she hadn't been the first.

Another reason that thinking back to that time made Nadine sick was because Shoreline had come before anything else, even her own son. Far from maternal, she knew she had done the right thing by giving up her child for adoption, but no matter how many times she told herself that, it still broke her heart and left a gnawing hole in its place. To this day she could still hear his tears as the doctor took him away, feel the sting in her eyes as she fought back her own sobs, but she couldn't recall the smell of his hair or how tiny he had been the one time she'd held him for her own. Her line of work left no room for a child, and she herself would have been a cruel enough punishment to inflict, so there had been no other choice but to part ways with him.

 _It was for the best_.

Steadily filling closer to capacity the later it got, the line for takeouts and deliveries had gotten long enough to wrap around and invade the dining space. Impressive as that may have sounded, it really wasn't much of a feat when you crunched the numbers. Door opening and closing so regularly that no one bothered to look up from the free wi-fi, the technology was almost at odds with the theme of the sectionals. Front of the store not so dissimilar from other fast food competitors, the back was almost generic and fashioned with a gritty noir vibe, the bulbs behind the heavy emerald shaders intentionally dim. Dark with speckled counters to hide how under-washed the tables were, the padded furniture was almost comfortable enough to doze off on.

Drake definitely like to get there before they could make any notable headway, Frazer went ahead and ordered for their ally and resident pain-in-the-ass. Granted that was title that never stayed with any one person for long. Keeping her eye on the phone as the site finally loaded, the dark haired beauty spoke while searching, "Should I really be surprised that someone almost died today?" Ross had a history with the Adler girl's parents, and unlike other people also in the know, she would be far less likely to color the situation to any one person's favor.

Honestly, Nadine wasn't sure how to answer that - Bai had seen to it that her precious little girl had been cloistered off from the rest of the world, so it was anyone's guess what the young woman was really like. Genetically speaking, it didn't seem so wrong to assume that the teen would be as poisonous an apple as her parents. Dysfunctional one way to describe the paternal line, she could only guess as what word or phrase covered the heiress's maternal lineage, especially after it came out that Bai was the daughter of Wen Zhihao.

"Clever stalling tactic." Forced into thinking about how to best respond to the inquiry, she finally stopped pacing in front of the table. They'd been at the dance too long to miss even the trickiest of beats, but bonus points for voicing a genuine concern.

Chloe smiled that placating grin of hers that made Nadine want to punch out all her teeth. It did its job to calm the other woman, true, but it was still infuriatingly cocky, and what was worse was that the cut-purse not only knew as much but savored it. "Well it worked, didn't it?"

Task made somewhat difficult due to the size of the screen and the crack running down the side, the duo took it in turns to view the video. Starting with the thief and the heiress pulling up at the pawn shop, before they even could enter the building the teen was caught tilting her head to the side and admiring something that wasn't for sale. Quite flattered at seeing the gesture now, the professional driver distantly wondered what Samuel would say about seeing that he had competition for the young lady's affections? In all seriousness though, there was no surprise to see the girl getting escorted out by ironic glasses number one and plaid jeans number two.

Furious and struggling to get back to pummeling the young man for whatever wrong he had done her, at first glance it looked like she was being bodily abducted in broad daylight, however if that was the case her mouth movements weren't conveying fear. Murder burned in her eyes, and they could almost feel the white-hot rage boiling through lousy camera angles and a great deal of distance. Whatever had happened to the young woman, previously mentioned cameras were positioned so that it looked like the trio had melted into the walls between the pawn shop and the laundromat.

Going back further to see when and which direction the kidnappers arrived from, at least they now knew they were searching on the right side of the road. That was a start, but not a great one.

That was as far as they got before Sam arrived.

"Bloody took you long enough." Sliding into their booth with a muffled bone popping as he sat, Chloe pushed her phone at him before he had the chance to complain about not being able to find them, or for that matter ask why they were even sitting at a pizza place when Daniella was still missing. As he was so fond of pointing out, Adler was his job. But that didn't mean that they were going to just leave her for dead. "Watch this."

Uncharacteristically silent as he obeyed the command to take the phone, their hands brushed in the trade; if she didn't know any better, the dark-haired beauty could have sworn that she had just touched a sheet of ice. Far from an exact science, there might have been something to that whole thing about warm hands, warm heart: light incarnate, her ex just exuded a tangible glow, yet his brother on the other hand... Perhaps there had been a time when Sam wasn't so aloof, but if it had ever existed life had robbed him. Not to say that he was a bad guy - he was there where it counted, and he had even risked a bullet for Nadine when they were less than cordial. Okay, so maybe they weren't the best of friends now either, but they'd come a long way from openly threatening to kill one another.

Caught up to speed on their half of the investigation as he defrosted from the damp that had seeped into his bones from the weather, the grizzled brunette replayed the clips for clues that they might have missed. Painting quite the picture, Frazer explained about the beating and that there had been two hipsters in the store, that the trio had vanished before charges could be pressed. It was also brought to light that the police didn't even pretend to do their job when the kid identified his assailant as the "the rich girl from the news". Running reconnaissance on the ground level while Sam got down there to join the search, Ross had been compiling a list of people that might know who the two were, or better yet, where they might be found. True, it was a long-shot they would be so lucky, but some criminals were just that dumb or narcissistic.

Face often in a place that was either entirely stoic or an open book (although no one ever said that it was an honest read), there wasn't room for any other emotion to even hint at what he was thinking when the video got to the arrival of Chloe and Daniella. Lines hard and deeper than time intended, at the moment Drake was set with single-minded determination to see this thing through to the end.

In truth, he had seen the teen cast similar glances at the woman during their interment in the safe house, so seeing the moon sigh softly again wasn't important enough to make a big deal over. Entirely possible that he would have found a way to bring it up anyways under lighter circumstances, the explorer was uninterested in their antics and was genuinely too concerned over the heiress to indulge in their time-wasting.

"Do I really need to remind you that if anything happens to that girl, her mother is going to deduct for every hair out of place?"

Nadine knew Bai almost as well as he did, so she could back him up on that if Chloe was still having trouble believing just how much of a harpy the businesswoman was. Speaking of the former head of the PMC, out of everyone that the responsible party could have asked for assistance, why did it have to be her? Charlie was in Argentina and rumor had it that Meenu was floating around the southern borders of France, but there were still other options that were just as good. Sure, sure, they were partners and frequently collaborated, but last he had heard, Nadine was taking some time off to work on 'personal matters'. Whatever that meant, he supposed that this was karma - the past spoke for itself, so out of everyone that could have been brought into the fold, Sam had no other choice but to concede that it made some sense to be her.

Straw nearly poking through her nose when she decided to take a drink and nod her head at the same time, the strict freelance muscle took it upon herself to reaffirm the type of person they were dealing with. A part of him was caught by surprise that she would agree with him about anything, however he wasn't the only one with Rafe in Scotland. "Wen Bai is..." honestly, Ross didn't even have a word for the other woman that was fitting, "not the sort you want to piss off."

Really? If that was all she was going to add...

"When we were first sorting out the contract with Shoreline, I came early to the office," punctuality was not at all a surprising trait in the former mercenary, "and I found her with a smoking gun in her hand. A bunch of suits had gathered at her request to discuss some kind of workers strike, and the way she told it, a CEO of some rival conglomerate had propositioned her in front of the others. Calm as death, she had asked him what his plans were for the strike since he was just so wise, and then she shot him because his terms were unacceptable. Knowing her reputation, she would have just had him dealt with privately for the harassment, but apparently the guy wasn't on an upward trend."

Eesh. Chloe didn't doubt that the mother of the heiress was a piece of work, not after the horror stories circulating around her late father, but she was in no rush to be present when it came time to collect. Although, maybe it would be best to focus on getting the teen back in their hands before they had to worry about their payment...

On the same page - at least for the time being - the trio of adventurers that really lived life looked to Sam for his contribution. "This might be Orange Tiger Association," pausing to note the look that passed between the faces of his cohorts, they knew the name, "under Deputy Mountain Master, Pan Yahui. Or," if one listened closely, they could hear the pause for dramatic effect, "these yutzes are the second coming of Shoreline."

Lids crashing over smoky grays with the weight of being the mature one of the three (what a world!), Chloe threw her head back and groaned at the paneled ceiling. Lamenting that it had been going so well up until that point, relatively speaking, to be fair it really shouldn't have come as a surprise that he'd bring up the defunct company. One of those forever kinds of things, it was just the sort of relationship the two had, even after all of these years.

However that didn't mean that Nadine was going to take it laying down. Glaring daggers through hazel eyes more murderous than they were beguiling (not to say that there wasn't something there when she let her guard down), her muscular figure had coiled back in the blink of an eye. Back in the day, she had had the speed and dexterity to lash out before anyone knew what was what, however time had taken off a sliver of that edge. Still a threat to be sure, there was now a window for Drake to brace himself for the bundle of rage as she lunged into his bubble.

All claws and fangs and everything else that made up nightmares, the woman sneered, "Only you would care enough about ancient history to bring that back up, Drake."

Word spreading like wildfire through the bush, there was a very easy target there for her to tear into, and crazily enough for just a moment she considered being the bigger person and refraining from taking such a low blow. Then he made the error of tempting fate by playing like he was waiting patiently for a child to finish their outburst, eyes blinking just as they had when he'd duped her men into grabbing the golden cross under the monastery.

So much for water under the bridge. "I guess it is true what they say about history repeating itself."

Absent during the whole beginning of the second Adler affair, by the time Nadine had come into the situation there had only been enough time for an abridged telling of events; unnecessary, watching the ex-con handle this mild inconvenience told her everything she needed to know. He could rest on the excuse of this just being a job - maybe he really had convinced himself of as much - but it was obviously much more personal for him. Drake might have taken this gig on out of guilt for his hand in Rafe's death, or maybe it really was just the money, however she refused to believe that his relationship to the multi-billionaire wasn't a factor.

Shaped into the charming lowlife that he was by necessity, the external influences of his youth, internal mischief, and society, Sam wouldn't trade his life for all the money in the world. And he had a pretty good idea of what kind of haul that meant refusing. Having said that, he could do without everyone he had ever spoken to and their grandmother dictating his reasons for putting so much into this job.

Blood beading over the imperfect pebble-pattern of her skin, the warm wetness welled up over her knuckles and ran down her fingers as the blade was wrenched free. Angel and Ashley seemed satisfied by her answer (and even more so by the renewed sobs that followed the extraction of the knife), but it also could have been that the time for them to have their fun had passed, because the next thing she knew one of them had cuffed her right wrist while the other began to undo the restraints. Mumbling under their breath about wasting their time, whoever had adorned the silver bracelet was clearly intending to bind the left was well.

Weakened from the ordeal and visibly shaken to the core, the heiress slumped forward once she was able; deep as the numerous cuts ran, it was the not knowing what to expect next that was affecting her the most. Ashley had gotten up and was busy rearranging things to keep the path clear, and Angel had come up behind the girl, knotting a firm grasp through the teen's hair that went root-deep. _There's no rest for the wicked._

Daniella wanted to believe that they would be the worst of it, but to be a leader you needed some kind of an edge to keep your subordinates in line. Slack between the cuffs rattling with a metallic tinkle when Angel forced her to move out of the seat and through the pitch blackness, she would have stumbled forward if it weren't for the nails digging into her scalp to prevent such mishaps. Mind racing from the rising panic that was flooding through her body and inner eye reeling from the memories of her parents' tapes, the teen wanted to throw herself on the floor and just beg for mercy, but she knew that these two would never grant it. The boss on the other hand... Well, that all depended on what exactly it was that they wanted her for.


	22. One Lousy Writer

**\- Chapter Twenty -**

 **One Lousy Writer**

Prints click-clacking on the matte onyx surface for the better part of ten minutes, without pause, she finally allowed herself a minute to sit back and stare up at the ceiling. On a relative roll with the outpouring of ideas she'd gotten from a contemplative late night shower, it was hard to look away from the monitor for more than five minutes. Maybe it was simple strain, but as the cluttered home office steadily grew darker and the screen brighter, it was beginning to effect her eyes.

Sam in particular was constantly on her about turning on a light, but at the moment her fingers were too busy flying over the keys to stretch over and flick on the desk lamp.

Speaking of the thief, the woman wondered what he was up to. Latest letter from Cuba still floating around the kitchen during the day, the last time they'd spoken he was thinking of paying Logan and Mellie a visit. The surfer would only be in town for another weekend before setting out on the circuit, and the family would be setting up the new place in Chelsea's native Auckland while he was away. If there was ever a time to stop by, this was it.

Then again, Sam often contemplated paying his son a visit; the woman hadn't exactly been keeping track, but it seemed like he followed through less than half the time. Although she could hardly blame him - in her experience it was always awkward and difficult to become a part of a pre-existing family unit. Sure Logan was open and willing to welcome a professional criminal into his life, whereas Chelsea would accept just about anything if it made her other half happy, but to take that all on while navigating parenthood...

Frankly she suspected that the wee baby Amelia was what really kept Sam around, that much was clear the first time he'd held his granddaughter. Thinking of that day still brought a tear to her eye, metaphorically speaking. Or perhaps that was just the hormones? No, it had to have been that day: Amelia's arrival into the world had changed a number of things, including the definition of family.

Ai-yah, it was still strange to think of the eldest Drake brother as someone's grandfather. Or father for that matter.

For the purposes of the story she was struggling at parts to tell, that was getting a tad ahead of things. At present she was only getting to the bit about her imprisonment and the rescue effort that was being mounted to get her back. Obviously not being present for chunks of time and hearing accounts second-hand was less than ideal, especially when the people she was counting on for information were a bunch of thieves and liars. As she imagined Chloe would point out, Nadine was probably the most honest of them all.

Shoulders only just getting around to telling the rest of her body that they were getting sore, the woman finally got the hint and pushed herself away from the desk. Tonight would definitely be spent in the arms of the heating pad. "Medical science wins this round."

Words of resignation hollow with no one to bounce them off of, she knew that speaking to herself was a bad habit. But when else would she have the opportunity to use her voice? Rather, when would the chance arise in face-to-face situations? Opting to escape to a quiet little place in the bountiful hills of Italy to recharge after her latest escapade, the entire point was solitude. After a few days of isolation in the villa, she was missing people, but pride wasn't allowing her to crumble and start bothering people when she was supposed to be on vacation. Or was rehab the more accurate term?

Either way you wanted to phrase her self-inflicted isolation, the separation wasn't so bad. This retreat had been a great excuse get in touch with her artistic side again - not that she would ever be hailed as one of the greats. Hiking for hours at a time through untamed wilderness, crawling through mud, and swimming short distances was basically what she did for a living, so it was nice getting to stay off her feet for a change. In fact, she had even braved signing up for a pottery class... which wasn't going very well.

Probably the tidiest of the three owners, the woman was only temporarily keeping her deformed sculptures on top of the filing cabinets until she made up her mind about what she was going to do with them. Most of the time she leaned on just tossing them into the bin, but it was never easy to part with the misshapen lumps. Sympathetic to hoarders on that count, that was the most likely reason why the chaotic state of the area went unmentioned.

Office shared between the three main occupants of the leisure residence, the fourth bedroom had been converted long before she had put her name to the deed. Walls an unpainted mixture of clay and sandstone, the vertical boundaries were about a foot lower than usual and curved to hug the garage. Workstation a wrapping desk wedged into the corner between oval windows, only one of the twin monitors was turned on and in use. Boxes full of old journals, faded receipts, and other account files were piled around, each clearly marked with Sullivan's handwriting. Back-ups of the back-ups. Sam's contribution to the mess was a littering of open dossiers and a couple of vintage posters.

Gaze falling to the digital clock in the bottom corner of the computer screen, the woman groaned to herself. Displaying the time to be a hair past three in the morning, she shook her head at the screen and sighed. So much for getting up early tomorrow. Worthy of paintings and poems and other masterful sonnets, the sunrises and mornings were truly breath-taking to behold, however she'd only managed to see one so far, and that was by fluke.

A really fun fluke that involved a German guitarist and several shots of some top-shelf liquor...

On the note of top-shelf booze, the athletic creature attempting to flex a number of creative muscles decided that a drink would be in order. Sitting up and stretching with a short yawn that went unheeded, the woman rolled her neck across the tops of her shoulders, hoping that her favorite masseuse would be in the office tomorrow. Theoretically she'd be fine with just about anyone with a degree, yet Edgardo had magic hands that could just make it all wash away.

"I wonder if they'd notice I'd broken into the Snow Queen..." Mumbling to herself, she had to ponder if either Sullivan or Sam would be bothered by not by her selection but by opening the luxury vodka without them. Her money may have been paying for the upkeep, but for all intents and purposes she still felt like a stranger renting out one of the rooms.

But screw feeling guilty about it - Sullivan was currently in Brazil catching up with an old friend, and who knew where Drake had ended up. Yeah, he'd said he was thinking about seeing some family, but for all anyone knew he could have been stumbling through some port city on the way to lord knows where. Odds were that the better question was when she'd receive a call asking for yet another loan to bail him out of prison. Again.

Pft, "loan", that was a cute way to put it.

Hallways a complex labyrinth of honeycombs the further away one got from the front door, even while half-asleep the dead ends and loop around the laundry room were easy traps to fall into. Alive with windows, the spruced corridors were kept simple with vases recovered from history and the occasional tapestry. Potted flowers dotted the way here and there, the exact breed of fauna changing depending on season and the moods of the two that cared about the decor.

Mirror displaying a bedraggled reflection when the woman passed between the kitchen and the alternate bathroom, she ignored it. Scratching absently at the tangled mess piled at the back of her head, some part of her was aware that it was time for a bath, however she was more interested in getting a drink. Thinking back on it now, it was almost strange that there had once been a time when taking a shower had been her idea of a good Friday night. Or was the preference more morose than peculiar?

Good stuff in the kitchen or the bar in the living room, the best liquor was always kept in the pantry next to Sullivan's room. As the person responsible for converting the narrow storage space into a vault for the most precious of flammables, it was only fair. Besides, the sailor was the least likely to abuse the treasure trove...

Lights turned off when he pulled up the loosely cobbled driveway, the man maneuvered his bike around a dingy blue SUV in order to park in the back. Large enough for two full sized vehicles and a motorcycle to fit comfortably, part of the garage was left open for patch jobs of various natures. What was new was a bike rack, complete with three different bicycles.

 _Was she trying to tell them something?_

Dim and barely bright enough to show the path to the side door into the villa, the automatic motion sensing light was dying. Not a problem, as there should have been a spare bulb among the tools.

Following both memory and what little light was available, he found his way inside without incident. Key slipping into the lock with the normal amount of jangling, if anyone was even in there were only so many reasons to keep it down. A loaded specialized Colt M 1911 was really all the incentive the man needed to be mindful of getting the jump on his flatmate, yet on some level the woman wielding the handgun was just as frightening, if not more so. Especially when she was drunk and angry, and in his experience it was safer to assume that she had had at least one drink before bed.

Unfair to say that she had a problem, he just wasn't in much of a mood to fight. Cutting it close to the wire, seeing Logan off following a sleepless night "relocating" antiquities had been draining enough. Forget the bender a few nights before that. Modest as the affair had been, he just wanted a warm bed to crash in. Preferably there would have been a plate in the oven and a warm body waiting, however no one had any idea he was going to be popping in. And anyways, it would have been too greedy to expect more than one of those things.

Tempted to peek around to see if anyone else was home, he figured that snooping around was an open invitation to get his face blown off. Unzipping the protective leather jacket as he walked down the hallways, it caught his notice that the office door had been left ajar. Blinding in comparison to the low hall lights that had been left on, he realized that the computer hadn't been properly turned off.

Either someone was definitely there, or there had been a break in. Going with the former, he cautiously opened the door and let out a sigh of relief when he saw that the room was empty. He could handle a burglar, just not the irony.

Mouse bringing the screen back to life when he moved it to save whatever was there so the tower could be powered down, he let out a laugh tinged with bitterness when he saw that someone had been writing down their adventures. He'd said in the past that they could make good bank for telling their stories to the masses, but he never thought that anyone had ever taken the suggestion seriously. Curious to read what all had been recorded, he paused just long enough to remove his coat.

Kept busy by the very 'meh' twenty or so finished chapters, the man didn't realize that yet another tenet had returned. Two of the three oval windows faced the driveway as it turned up into the garage, yet by that time the story had its reader that engrossed in the action. Or rather, the lack thereof.

Sunrise still flirting with the rosy hues of the dawn, the inky midnight had been chased away by crooked fingers of vibrant apricot. Stones lent a dusky violet shade and grass glowing lush emerald beneath the dew, the breathtaking serenity of the front garden was lost on the drunk. Air only doing so much to sober the tall man up as he drove the canopied lane, the stench of spilled beer soaking into musty cotton proceeded his actual arrival. His keys scratched the fresh paint on the back door when he stumbled inside.

Instead of going left towards, well, pretty much everything in the villa, the drunk shambled straight for the laundry room to deposit a knapsack of dirty wash. Only other doors nearby leading to either the closet or the third bedroom, he was disappointed to discover that the jewel-toned California King was empty. Aware of who should have been lurking somewhere in the residence, being so early in the morning there were only so many places the woman could have been hiding. Hands thrust out to steady himself, he used the tips of his fingers to follow the wall passed the patio and dinning room until it gave away.

Late night snacks weren't unheard of, so the kitchen was as likely a place as any, but he hadn't noticed any kind of illumination coming from the archway. No, he just had the feeling that he wouldn't find anything entertaining in there, so he kept on his path.

Tv wasting electricity and killing braincells at the same time, the flat screen had been left on some old monochrome movie, something in Italian. Technically they had a package that included English programs, but that was more to show off how lavishly they were living. As if the living room itself failed to deliver that message.

"Miss me?" Battling with his center of gravity, the buzzed drunk struggled to stand up straight. He felt as if his presence spoke for itself, yet he still announced his arrival to the woman curled up on the coach to prevent a repeat of the incident with Charlie.

Answered by a snore as she tossed around on the couch, he shook his head with the faintest hint of a leer. So much for making half an effort to appear presentable to his partner. Really, they hadn't seen each other in a little over a month, so it was quite the letdown to be reunited in such a fashion, although... Coming over from a pub crawl after deciding against the whole goodbye scene Logan would have wanted, it was probably for the best that she was passed out. History dictated one of two scenarios playing out otherwise, and he wasn't in much of a mood for 'option b'.

Leaving well enough alone, he settled on taking whatever medicine had knocked her on her ass. Smart money was not on pills but potions - she had a terrible gag reflex that made swallowing quite the struggle. Mumbling incoherently when the man finally succeeded in tearing the clear bottle of vodka from the crook of her elbow, the woman hugged herself tight.

 _Serves her right._

Despite being unable to forgive her for breaking into the Snow Queen without him, the traitorous heart within betrayed his petty grudge. Under the impression that she might have been cold, he remembered discarding his coat on the hook by the side door; compensating for real coverage, he slid out of his shirt and placed it over her torso. Royal navy with a slightly darker indigo thread woven through, the light coming from the television shifted the colors from pitch to electric snow.

White wife beater underneath the shirt stained with sweat and beer, it probably smelled as attractive as the drunkard wearing it. Whatever, it wasn't like there was anyone around he had to impress. All the same, it was a good thing she was out of it and there were no other witnesses around, because he had a reputation to uphold.

Occupying the cushion previously hogged by her pedicured feet, after maybe fifteen minutes of drinking the vodka and having no way of changing the channel - who knew where she had lost the remote? - the man began to search around for a way to entertain himself. Aside from the obvious (and perverted), he didn't see too many options. Glancing around at the end table by his elbow, his blurry eyes caught sight of a pen and a notepad on the top, and underneath a bag from one of the local stores.

Easier to grab, he opted first for the ink and paper.

Dragon doodle too big for one square to contain, the picture ended up taking several: face taking five blocks for the snout and horned crests where there ought to have been ears, the body had taken another three. Then he'd gotten bored with the concept and started on some birds. Lacking a place to put his slender Chinese dragon, he realized that there was plenty of room to keep the illustration, and even better, keep it as a single solid image. Laying the flexible ivory tiles out across the steady logs that were the woman's calves and thighs, it dawned on the drunk that he had a means of getting revenge for the solo binge.

Ankle already home to some real artistry, the man ran the pen over the top of her foot to test how ticklish it would be. Chances were high that he could have covered her entire body before she woke up, but it seemed prudent to test that theory out first. Recalling a time long ago when he had just been a wayward boy with a sharpie and a little brother to torment, the drunk knew exactly how to begin his masterpiece.

Well, that could have gone better.

Style what one might refer to as overly descriptive, somehow the author had managed to drone on for hours while covering the same exact territory with little forward movement in the growth of the characters. Plot development dragged on as well, but at least there it was easier to see progression. Information boiled down beyond basics, it felt like the woman had been insecure in her work to the point that she was spoon-feeding anyone that might bother reading the story. The man was fairly certain that wasn't her intention, but that was how it looked from his perspective.

Characterization starting out alright, it felt like at times the author had began to lose sight of the players. For example, Bai surely had more going on than just glasses, sex, and a job in business. The stuff brushing her cocaine addiction was a decent start, but that would likely never get touched upon without dragging desire into the mix. Perhaps in some twisted way it was just difficult for the woman to bring up her family, but she herself seemed to be questionably underdeveloped on paper. And what was up with tweaking with the timeline so much? An argument could be made that she was just slowly building on the character, but at this point forever was seeming like a theme.

To be fair, there was a tiny bit of improvement along the way, and maybe things could still be salvageable if she was willing to own up to her mistakes. If anyone ever read this tale hopefully they had the stuff to stick it out, but having sat through it up until this point, he could hardly blame someone for bailing.

Maybe if a certain someone had shown up as more then a brief name drop...

Finished critiquing the amateur storytelling in all its mediocre struggle, the man made sure to save the document before exiting the program. On the computer for so long that he had honestly forgotten what his original plan had been, he shut the tower and monitor down. Once coming in to find a video of an Asian schoolgirl tied up in a chair with one in each hand and a powerhouse in her bum, in hindsight it would have been better if he had just found more porn.

Ravenous after reading into the morning, the first guy to come home that morning opted to grab a snack before finding an open bed. Yeah, the main owners of the villa liked to stake their claim upon certain rooms, but seeing as they weren't the only ones with a set of keys, tough tits. The woman that bought her way on to the deed pretty much had made the third bedroom her own, however if the other two were full up, he had no qualms about grabbing some shuteye in her chambers. In some weird way, he was even hoping that that might be the case - she had the softest coral fleece and Sherpa blanket you could ever want.

Kitchen the next room over, thankfully it wasn't too far of a walk from the comfort of the office chair. Mind envisioning a glass of milk to wash down a fresh plate of warm buttery toast, instead the man settled for a cup of calcium-enriched orange juice and a couple slices of cold pizza. Delivery, stuffed crust, topped with mushrooms and olives. Far from the best combination, the meal involved the least amount of effort to prepare.

Nibbling on his food and contemplating about whether or not he should pop the pizza into the microwave really quick, he glanced around the rest of the room. Refrigerator owning the wall beside the single archway, the opposite and adjoining boundaries were made of 80% counter and cupboard. The other twenty was oven, sink, and dishwasher. Cheap and easy to move, the card table in the far corner took up most of the remaining space; a second bag was left on the porous surface, revealing an open bottle of medicine for stomach pains, sour candies, and the wrapper of a chocolate bar.

Did the woman stop to think that maybe her stomach was rebelling against all the crap she'd been eating?

Second bedroom only a hop, skip, and a bathroom away from the food prep station, once the last of the crumbs had vanished he decided to crash there. He'd say hello to the author later on in the day once he was rested and had had a hot shower - it had been a long day, and frankly he was beat. If by some chance the elder Drake happened to wander this way and needed lodging, the other man could just bunk with the woman. From the sounds of things, it wouldn't be the first time.

 _"If the stories were to be believed."_

Periwinkle the favored color, five polished toes came crashing into the man's rib before his groggy brain could even comprehend what had happened. Kicking out in her sleep, he had to remind himself that she wasn't in control of her body and shouldn't be blamed for her actions. Keyword being shouldn't, as payment for opening the vodka by herself, the drunk had scribbled a number of things on the available skin of her legs and hand.

Restitution for the assault would bear mulling over.

As would adequate amends for waking him up after he had dozed off. Ask the man when it had happened, and he couldn't so much as guess at the exact moment he drifted off, only that he had been jerked out of sleep by a sudden and sneaky strike. On top of hogging the covers for warmth as much as for what she called "separation for modesty", the woman was infamous for random fits of violence. Auditions for fight club, he'd tease her. Apparently there was a new season coming up that she felt the need to train for.

Limbs on the cusp between a wooden death and hollow numbness, lids growing heavier with each passing second, the man didn't fight it. Giving in to the wear of the liquor and the pangs behind his red eyes that yearned for nothing less than rest, he shrugged the attack off and settled in.


	23. Boys Will Be Boys

**\- Chapter Twenty-One -**

 **Boys Will be Boys**

Team divided to cover more ground, the sniper had vanished into the hills and had activated her camouflage ability to disrupt the enemy radars while the medic was camped between the party and generally laying low. Savage a raider as he was, Jian had been placed at the end of assault line to better protect the base while the rest ventured off to capture the enemy flag. It was a fair system of rotation among the fighter class, and due to how large the map they were playing was, there was no doubt that he'd be kept plenty busy. Shame really that real life didn't run half as smoothly as his crew in the new console-exclusive first-person shooter that was all the rage.

Ruddy sienna gaze fixated on the new 84" curved flat screen his cousin had had installed in the loft, he no longer noticed the highly polished stone base that held everything entertainment-related. A most welcome bribe, Jian wondered fleetingly when his next reminder would be phoned in. Pan Yahui was an elder cousin through Jian's mother, yet the Deputy Mountain Head felt less like a branch of the family tree and more like an over-bearing grandmother that never shut up. _Eat your greens, do your homework, pay attention to your elders, and above all else bring honor to the family._

Ruan Jian was clever enough to work his own way up the ladder to get where he was, which was exactly where he wanted to be. Alas, Yahui had misread his end goal as ambition and had implored Wen Zhihao for the opportunity to prove the worth of their line. Now Jian was stuck having to make a marriage work when all he really wanted was to be in a place where he could be free of obligation. Twenty-four and catered to on the clock, this was his dream and his own personal nightmare on a collision course.

Phone ringing with the standard chime, he was snapped from his reverie by the sudden vibration on the end table more than the noise itself. Groaning to himself as he was shot from behind, the young man took the opportunity of his death to answer the call while his avatar respawned as a zombie that was doomed to watch the rest of the match unfold while the AI took over.

"Wèi?" Greeting the caller in Mandarin and expecting them to identify themselves, Jian waited for a response. True, he could have just looked at the caller ID, but he liked to assert his importance in any little way that he possibly could. Making the crew practice their Mandarin in such a fashion was a pretty decent place to start in his mind.

Clumsily fumbling through even the simplest words, the caller identified themselves as Ashley Davids. If memory served, that one had quite the reputation in this part and was wanted for questioning in an arson case and several burglaries; prior to getting pulled from one gang into another, Ashley had started as a street-level dealer. Keeping tabs on his men as a strategic business move, Jian didn't much care for Ashley as a person, however the partner Angel was quite the gem to have on your side, so he tolerated the extra.

According to Ashley, they had bagged the girl and were in the process of moving her to the place uptown so she could sleep off the drugs they'd given her. Damn near on the opposite side of the city from the loft, the facility uptown was where they usually took all the special guests - acknowledging that this one was to be his bride, Jian ordered them to not treat her too rough. Inseparable from the insufferable counterpart, Angel could be heard in the background sighing about the limitations. Considering the dastardly duo would still have time for themselves to do with the heiress as they pleased (within reason), he didn't feel bad for denying them their heart's desire.

Mandarin his mother tongue and English still lacking, the boss opted to keep the operation in a language that not everyone on the street would know. Maybe one or two passersby, so that was why they often used codes. From what Ashley understood through the language barriers, Jian was pleased that setting up goons across the city had finally paid off. Explicitly forbidding that his future bride die on their watch, as their leader he instructed them to keep her company before ending the call and returning to his game. But not before Ashley confirmed a certain theory.

The sniper kindly informed him once he had returned to the fray, "You forgot to turn off your mic again."

Before Drake had to go and completely kill it by bringing up her old company, Nadine realized that she had a potential lead that could determine if they were dealing with Orange Tiger Association or not. More than willing to bring that relationship to light so that they might rescue the girl, the only thing that had stopped her was Drake's stupid mouth. It was petty, but he just had a way of getting under her skin and pressing all the wrong buttons; at the end of the day, Sam wasn't the worst thing ever, however they'd never be drinking buddies without a third wheel there to keep the pair from murdering one another.

His brother wasn't much higher on her list, but Chloe vouched for him: Nadine trusted her partner, so that was good enough for her to at least attempt to set history aside. As an ex, Frazer's faith and praise spoke volumes about Nathan's character. Difficult as it had been, she'd figured out that Nate wasn't entirely a scoundrel like his older brother, however it wasn't like they'd be hitting up bars together either.

Screw the Drakes, that was her philosophy, and it had worked pretty well for her so far.

Excusing herself from the table once the three had assigned themselves a role in the recovery effort, Nadine left her portion of the bill out for the waiter and stalked off. A poet could have used daintier words to describe the way she walked off to go about her business, but the woman moved with purpose and had no such need for flowery terms. Thick leather combat boots with steel toes weighed down her step, that was true, but so what? It wasn't as if stealth was necessary at the moment.

Phone full of contacts from work, the number she needed was right at the top of the most frequently dialed tab. Thumb hovering over the call sign before she even realized that the device was in her hand, Ross opened the door and bit back a shiver as the damp air smacked her full in the face. The rain had let up after what felt like full days without a break, but the top of her head knew that it wasn't finished yet.

Time to break out the hair band. Digging in her jacket pocket for something to keep the tangle of curls out of her face, the woman held her phone underneath her chin while she tied back her dark locks. Once that was out of the way, she rang up the one person that could really make a difference in the case.

"Mother?" Shushed - most likely from being at his own job - a young man with a strong South African accent answered. Deep, his was the voice of a seasoned solider that didn't know what it was to be a child.

Obsessed with learning who he was and why he had grown up the way he had, a young adult identifying himself as Wyatt Ross had tracked down his birth mother for an explanation. And if that was lacking, quite probably her head. Finding blunt answers and connecting from there, Wyatt had only just stopped calling Nadine by her name, so she hadn't been sure what to expect when calling up unexpectedly like this.

More than she deserved in her mind, despite trying to keep strong, just hearing the young man call her that filled her heart in a way that nothing else had before. Expect that was dangerously close to feeling, and that was something she was not terribly great at expressing. Tone formal and stiff, she let him know that this was strictly business. "Ja."

"..." Considerably more patient than the woman - although it wasn't exactly a very high bar - he waited for her to speak.

"Do you still have that contact in Orange Tiger? I'm helping a friend find a missing girl." Glad that no one else was around to hear her call Drake such, the former mercenary specified, "Daniella Adler went missing today, and we need to find her before things get ugly."

Wyatt immediately understood what his mother was getting at. "I'll let you know what I find."

Group splintering off from one another to get to work, Sam took the path that made the most sense to him, and that was to hit the pavement. Perhaps he wasn't quite as fit as he had been when hunting for Avery's treasure, there was no arguing that freedom had given him more excuses to slack off in his exercise regiment, yet he was still formidable enough at his age. No, making little birdies sing wasn't the dilemma so much as finding the canaries in the first place, but he wasn't sweating just yet.

Armed with a snapshot of the video and the determination to get what was his back, Samuel's first stop was to find an old acquaintance that was rather imfamous in certain circles for how good he was with both names and faces.

Ronnie was greasy, cheated at cards, swore like a sailor, and was your run-of-the-mill scumbag, but if you ever needed to find someone, chances where good that he should have been the first person you went to. Or his neighbor Tyrone. A disgraced cop formerly on the take, he took over when the resident snitch had done something stupid and was serving time, but everyone knew that Ronnie had the better info. It was more up-to-date, usually much more invasive if it involved a pretty face or extra moolah, and his network seemed to spread that much further. Having said that, Tyrone could get into certain files that not everyone had access to, and was much better at handling his clientèle.

However the problem was that going after Ronnie (or Tyrone) meant that it would take Sam further away from the site of Daniella's disappearance.

Trio becoming a twosome before crumbling down to less than that, there wasn't a big hullabaloo when they parted ways. Nadine was doubtlessly going to make inquiries and Drake was actively looking for a fight (not a bad idea, since his little ingénue wasn't around to help him blow off some steam). Glossing over her own fault, naturally that left Chloe to pay the rest of the bill and dig deeper into where the heiress had vanished with her new friends. Frankly the woman had no clue how successful she would be in her endeavor, but they all had to try.

Money was good, but a life held so much more value than any treasure.

Pizza parlor at her back as she headed out to canvas the laundromat and surrounding areas, the wind howled as it threatened to pick back up. Turning her collar up against cold that cut through marrow like an ancient Tibetan blade, or from anywhere really, the dark haired beauty cast a final glance back at her friends. Weather hell on its own without bouncing curls to become a hindrance, Ross could be seen heading up the sidewalk and putting her hair back as she jumped on to her phone. Drake checked something on his own cell before kicking his bike to life, a frown etching deeper into the lines on his face as he stored it away for the drive.

Would any of them have luck finding the missing Adler girl, or would this be her final swan song? Nate had gone up against worse odds on numerous occasions and had somehow or other managed to come through the other side in one piece, but not everyone had the Devil's own luck. Admittedly they hadn't known each other very long, but the teen wasn't so bad. Not that anyone deserved this fate. Still though, how long would she have to endure while they scrambled about?

Frazer wasn't very comforted by the probabilities when she thought about it, so she was glad that none of them had voiced the concern aloud.

Pretty little thing that she was, Jian didn't so much as bat a lash when the baseball bat collided in a supernova of splintering wood and twisted metal. There were always other cars; custom work could be leased out, even if in the end the product wasn't quite the same as before. It wasn't like he payed close enough attention to notice any sort of a difference, so really this was no sweat off his brow. Or whatever the saying was.

Anyways, it wasn't even his vehicle - the Cadillac belonged to one of the guys, maybe Rhee or Kyle. A perk to being a part of his crew, the damages would be covered and the car replaced, so the angry woman could feel free to let it out. But by all means, he wasn't about to correct the woman her mistake.

Yahui's loft was on the sixth floor of the complex, the ground level an indoor parking garage for the tenets and their guests. Jian owned a number of cars, however his pride and joy was an ombre Bugatti that faded from a blood-stained scarlet to an immaculate eggshell white. Host to a number of parties and smarter than to deal with jilted lovers that could carry a grudge, the young man never left his car anywhere he couldn't secure.

Ranting and raving, a little hood rat he _might_ have slept with was frothing at the mouth as she jumped on the hood of the Escalade. Weight causing the frame to sink, the sporting equipment repeatedly beat on the windshield until it cracked, each swing accompanied by a threat or insult. Once the front had been too damaged to see out of, the incognito trollop reached into the messenger bag swaying at her side and pulled something large out. Feed on the security monitors pristine as the typical summer blockbuster, the spray paint was a nasty shade of yellow, label specifying that it was intended for outdoor use.

Letter 'L' as far as the invader got before the phone rang again, Jian scoffed in annoyance and motioned one of the girls over. While he waited, his finger pressed the button to call security to deal with the one night stand.

Kickbacks as random as they were plentiful, Kyle had arrived shortly after he had turned off the game, that week's flavor on his arm. Impressed by the money his friend was throwing around with the price of the drinks alone, it hadn't taken long for two more just like her to show up. With them came a boyfriend wanting a job and a protective cousin of indeterminate gender. Provided nothing happened that might ruin a potential partnership, the boyfriend was as good as hired.

Air still strong with the lingering oder of marijuana, Molly number three had a strong enough tolerance to obey the command. American from the Midwest with big dreams of becoming a famous singer on Broadway, or some other generic dream, the redhead seemed to glide when she moved, but that might have been the drugs working their magic.

"Yeah?" Whispering for fear of hearing herself, the lethargy was taking its toll on everyone.

Phone ringing once more with the same old chirp, he pointed to the device on the table. It could have been important - in fact it probably was - but somehow it felt even more important that he keep up the act of not knowing any English at all. For whatever reasons, it seemed to work exceedingly well with most women.

Bobbing her head in understanding, the redhead handed him the cell with a come-hither smile and a mischievous wink. Despite the smart phone being accepted into his grasp, she didn't let go of his hand; instead she took the extremity and began to kiss every curve. Vivid like an orchid, her lipstick left a violet-magenta trail across his skin. Once the call was over, he had a mind to taste the flower for himself...

"Wèi?" Jian would have looked at the caller ID this time, as per the feeling he had previously, but it wasn't really much of an option. Not when the kisses migrated from palm to wrist with the promise of more to come.

Entire call taking place in Mandarin, it didn't take Yahui long to figure out what had kept the young man so busy. Suffice it to say that he did not approve. "In the future you might find it prudent to practice discretion - your bride-to-be is the granddaughter of our honored Dragon Head." Always one for the guilt trip, Jian thought that Yahui might just cut formality and open with the lecture. "Or have you forgotten your family and all that rests on your shoulders? Wen Zhihao will not thank you for dishonoring his kin."

"Is that all? Last I checked that deal has yet to go through." Truthfully he wouldn't have been terribly heartbroken if things never came to pass in the fashion ordained by man. "Wen Zhihao's granddaughter is as good as in my custody."

Trouble was, word on the street was that someone was already kicking up stones trying to find her. But his cousin didn't need to concern himself with that.

Hands grazing the grainy stucco as she searched for clues or secret passageways (in her line of work, she head learned that nothing was impossible), Chloe shook her head. Nothing was there but wall, plain ordinary wall. A girl's life could have been at stake, and she was trying to feel up a vertical barrier - worse, after over ten minutes of fondling, she didn't even have anything to show for it. But there had to be something!

People just didn't vanish into thin air.

Arms of the ally not quite broad enough across to support sketchy black vans - were white vans still an automatic red flag? - that didn't mean that there wasn't one waiting for the heiress at either end. Thinned at the tip, the far point of the lane connected to the back of the pizza parlor used to be an old arcade before it was was used to store wine and other surplus. Cut marginally wider, the lot behind the pawn shop was used for additional storage.

Storage for a teenage girl with nothing but money and problems? Perhaps.

Obvious choice being the pawn shop, if the woman were going to illegally house ill-gotten goods, Chloe liked to think she would be smarter than that. Hiding things in plain sight was probably the cleverest thing one could do, although there was fine line between being intelligent about it and being shortsighted.

Unsure of how far the captors had lured the young woman before showing themselves for what they really were, it was smart to try to look at it from their perspective. Angry as the Adler girl had been when they removed her from the store, the logical thing to do was to calm her down. What was the best and fastest way to do that? To get her high. And where would a bunch of kids go to get high? Well, pretty much anywhere, yet there was one place where they could do so with irony: the old arcade.

Blindfolded with a strip of silk, walked into an elevator, intentionally spun around so that she was disoriented further, and led into a room so bright that it radiated through the dense material, Daniella was forced to sit down. Knees reluctant to buckle after the last chair she had been in, someone had dug their thumb into the hole Ashley had made on her shoulder. Yelping like the wounded child she was, the heiress relented.

 _Some pirate she turned out to be._

Modern chariot bearing the reluctant Romeo to woo his impure Juliet, the stage had been set to impress a highborn lady of taste. Floors swept, polished, and transformed by antique Persian rugs, the manacles hanging on the wall had been blocked from sight by marble statues of lovers in the act. No less than a hundred twinkling lights had been strung from the ceiling, the flashing hard to make out at first. A dozen scented candles had been lit and placed around the golden sofa in clusters, the flood lights of the interrogation room dimming gradually. After hours in the dark, Jian wanted to be the first thing that she saw.

Food and refreshments waiting on an actual silver platter on the other side of the dimpled divan, he allowed Angel and Ashley a roast beef sandwich removed of its crust before ordering them out. This was a matter between a man and the woman that should be his wife, so there needn't be any interlopers. Or witnesses to possible humiliation. The paramours two had no doubt done a decent job of breaking the woman down, yet there had only been so much time for them to work.

Armani suit rustling as he reached around her head to remove the olive Hermès from her eyes, Jian flashed his most charming smile.

Ear picking up the Mandarin word for "leave", there was a ding of metal-on-metal and something being grabbed off a flat surface. Throat constricting with the fresh memory of steel incisions, the heiress listened keenly to the demure shuffle of two separate bodies walking away. Movement less than a hushed whisper between shadow cats, a sturdy old door was shut behind them with a groaning creak. Even if by some miracle escape could have been possible, that door would be a challenge with her hands still cuffed.

Before the grand unveiling that she had no way of anticipating, a whole new fear was bubbling up inside. Acting on raw instinct, the minute she felt hands going around her person, Daniella lashed out and banged her head forward.

Fueled by panic, the blow wasn't quite as strong as it could have been, and for that Jian was thankful - his nose had taken the worst of it and was bleeding. Carmine dripping down and staining the ivory collar of his pressed dress shirt, the put-upon suitor wanted to swear and call the whole thing off, yet he couldn't. For better or worse, he had to go through with the wishes of his betters. But there was no one there to dictate his terms for the relationship.

Indicating the spread at her side, he used a language that might make her more comfortable. "Refreshment?"

Refusal clear when she shook her head, the heiress did an admirable job keeping the surprise and confusion off her face. Silence was always an ideal trait in a woman, and as his wife she would learn the importance of holding her tongue, however the look shining in her eyes was not one of respect. Sooner or later that would have to change.

Voice straining to remain contained even as the pain turned into a steady throb, he spoke from the heart. "I apologize for the situation."

Daniella wasn't biting, although he could tell that he was in her head. Women clamored for honesty, yet they always seemed so shocked when they finally got it.

"We don't need to war with one another." Inspecting the girl in her tattered attire closer, he deemed the creature beneath the cuts to be acceptable in person. Pictures told him all he had required to know about the heiress, but sometimes film had a way of lying or even doing a disservice to the subject. Though he preferred Italians, she would do. "Our families are the ones that desire this marriage, but we're the ones that have to live it. We could co-operate with one another and come to an arrangement that we would both enjoy."

Searching his face for deception, she met him halfway and replied in Mandarin, "Such as?"


	24. True Story

**\- Chapter Twenty-Two -**

 **True Story**

Ants and earthworms doing their part for the ecosystem, the surrounding foliage shifted beneath a cloudless sun. Creeping up the side of the garage door in a fuchsia flourish, the bougainvillea rattled as a grass snake slithered through in search of a meal. Birds hunted on high for the weak links in the chain, some tweeting sweet songs as they bathed in the pale fountain behind the villa. Some place in the midst of the working world, melon began to ripen and the wind swept up the scent of lilac crocus and jasmine.

Noon lost to the marches of time, the great yellow obelisk in the sky was still well away from disappearing behind the distant purple peaks. Early hours wasted away by vodka and a bar crawl, two of the three human occupants were still out for the count. Cutter being the only one that was up and somewhat alert, his initial plan had been to have a shower and a shave before greeting his flatmate. It was just good manners and such; also, he was still weary of a repeat incident.

Dead to the world, neither Drake nor Adler stirred when he came in to the living room to eat his breakfast in front of the biggest screen in the whole villa. Possibly the entire countryside. Toast buttered and crisp as the morning they'd all slept through, the bald man had started by clearing his throat. _Nothing, not even roll to the side_.

He shrugged it off. Not all that sympathetic to the hangovers they'd suffer when he saw the label on the bottle, Charlie changed the channel to something of his liking and turned the volume up. Seated at the edge of the sofa opposite the pair, he didn't pay them much heed as he ate.

Examining the facts, it honestly wasn't all that surprising to find the twosome crashed out like that. Whether it was because they had issues or because they fancied the pirate life, between the two it was rare when booze wasn't present in some capacity. Having said that, neither were bad enough to spend all day drinking or ruin special occasions by being pissed as a newt. Sobriety (or lack thereof) aside, while the close associates knew their boundaries with the bottle, it was tougher for the casual outsider to separate the allies. If Adler wasn't squirming through the places that Drake couldn't reach by himself any more, it was the veteran covering the heiress. Work one thing, they spent so much of their personal time together that they had every appearance of being a package deal.

Drake struck Charlie more as the kind of guy that just wanted to be out there getting his hands dirty. All the same, personally he was of the belief that the pairing could best be summed up by the term "Sugar Mama". But how well does anyone really ever know a person?

Outside of the very voluntary reading he had subjected himself to, there was a lot that he didn't know about the heiress. Allergies, how much she would be willing to just hand out at a given time without an excuse, exact date of birth. Small things like that. Missing out on her inclusion to their little family of sorts didn't help much in that aspect. Reading her own fictionalized account of events certainly wasn't doing anything to close that gap either.

Extent of her background boiling down to rich princess with dead dad syndrome, the exact timeline was up for debate. Written word had the resident Sleeping Beauty sitting at roughly two years of age (if memory served), whereas home video told an entirely different story. Cutter may have been mistaken, but he was pretty sure that seeing home video of Rafe at his daughter's fifth birthday party proved that there was a discrepancy.

She was either a bigger liar than they thought, or Sam had really rubbed off on her the wrong way. Not sure that it wasn't some combination of the two, all Charlie knew was that the girl clearly had deep issues. But doesn't everyone?

"Daniella."

Gilded corridors more akin to a museum than the halls of an ordinary home, the manor was hardly a place for a child. Even a reasonably well-behaved little thing like Daniella. Trinkets collected and bought, the display ranged from a broken ruby necklace that might have been stolen from the Russian Crown Jewels to entire walls of medieval weaponry. Considerably newer and primarily favoring French florals and romanticized landscapes inspired by the late Italian Renaissance, the framed paintings were all top dollar and one-of-a-kind.

Five seconds ago, the most sentient thing in the northern wing was a stuffed lion. Mate and cubs in tow, the area was a common haunt of an imaginative child that liked to pretend to be on safari. Today appeared to be no different - Rafe caught sight of his offspring reflected back by the king of the jungle. Eyes replaced with mammoth marbles the color of sapphire, a royal azure version of Daniella could be seen counting the checkered squares of the carpet on the opposite end of the hall.

Tempted to leave her be, the multi-billionaire watched her play for a moment, remembering his own childhood as he did so. Home only because he was taking a break from analyzing some ruins turned up in Scotland, Rafe didn't picture this. Technically he hardly wasted the effort of thinking of home these days, however if he had, his family wouldn't have been in the picture.

Tolerated strictly on the grounds of producing a satisfactory heir with promise, Bai had made the most of their arrangement; her footprint was small, but there were obvious signs that the manor was being lived in. Still, the estate was large enough for them to co-parent without concern of having to face one another. When they didn't want to that is, which of late was more the status quo than before. Frankly, the old manor was roomy enough to avoid everyone for a few days, which was all he asked.

Blessedly Bai would be out for work and wasn't expected home until tomorrow at the earliest, so in theory that left Daniella with the staff. Nice as the thought of not having to face the woman he'd accidentally attached himself to was, the rich grave robber wasn't overjoyed to learn that their daughter had been abandoned enough times to know that she could be trusted to be alone. That hit too close to home.

Overcome by the bitter underside of nostalgia, he called out to the child.

Losing count around eighty-seven navy diamonds, the surface of her dismissive reply made it clear that she had assumed one of the staff was prepared to lecture her. Fearing she was in trouble, the girl stretched out her reply as long as she could, "I'm busy."

Pouting and throwing herself a pity-party, in truth she was only preoccupied with resentment. A bi-polar bear, when she wasn't smothering the girl, Mama was sending her way, but Daddy? Daddy was supposed to be different than that. Rarely ever in the country as it was, she hadn't wanted to squander precious time with her father; sent off with instructions to entertain herself, there really hadn't been much of an alternative. Adults were jerks. Not doubt about that, yet she still loved her daddy.

Voice not immediately recognizable to the little urchin, whoever was speaking didn't sound like they were going to listen. Typical. "Little girl, I expect an answer."

Finally bothered to glance up, the little girl did so slowly. Velvet bow swinging across her back at the exact moment she saw who was speaking to her, it was tough to say what had elicited the jump. Alarmed that she might have merely conjured up another effigy to distract herself from how lonely it was, Daniella knew it might have also been born out of guilt. Mama had so many rules that it seemed impossible to not break one or another. She'd been taught better than to disregard her mother's absolute authority, but she was just so mad!

More concerned with brushing up on his pirate lore than checking on his progeny, Rafe technically had been on the way to the library. He had no idea what she'd gotten up to on her own, but with her mother being out it wasn't hard to guess that she'd be taking advantage of the opportunity. "Where have you been?"

"I was..." knowing that she had done bad, the girl erred on the side of caution and feigned innocence, "playing ball." Better to come clean about that much, seeing as the accessory to the crime was only a few feet away.

Considering that it was really coming down that day she seemed to be remarkably dry. "In the rain?"

Busted. "...No."

Almost disappointed in how easily she crumbled, Rafe didn't need to wait long for an explanation. "I was in the pretty white room, the one where everyone gathers for grown-up business. After you told me to 'go entertain myself', I took my soccer ball, but I swear I was only thinking about practicing my footwork! At least I was... until I wasn't. When you came home I was really looking forward to spending some time with you, but..."

Rafe finished for her, "I sent you away."

Bopping her head in nervous agreement, a chunk of dark bang fell into her eyes. Middle of the iris as dark a blue as the depths of the sea her mother had dragged herself up from, the outer expanse was a dancing pattern of brown bordering on hazel. A virtual clone of the multi-billionaire since birth, any residual traces of doubt in his mind had been removed by the ophthalmologist diagnosing Daniella with central heterochromia.

With no one else there to handle the situation it fell on his shoulders to parent the girl. Figuring that he may as well at least see the extent of the damage before jumping down her throat - which was what her mother would have done - he closed the space between them. Offering the little lady a hand, he helped the girl to her feet. "Show me."

Oddly hopeful about not receiving as harsh a punishment as Mama would have dished out, Daniella hesitated only a moment before grabbing her father's hand. Once on her feet, she refused to let go. Mama had to constantly remind the girl to straighten out her clothes and keep a presentable appearance, and for a moment it almost paid off. Moving to dust off her knees and tweak the shimmery pink material of her cardigan, the height difference between adult and child was too great without accidentally breaking contact, so she refrained. Instead the girl had only flipped the dark braid back over her shoulder, just how she liked it.

"Did the scary lady go home too?" Daniella had only met her father's girl friend a handful of times, but it had been enough to leave a mark. "Sometimes when I'm looking for something and can't find it, I leave the search for a while. Usually when I come back I can find it. Like that really hard page in my I Spy book."

Nadine had stayed on as a matter of fact, although that had been her own choice. Whatever her reasons were, a part of him suspected that it was because she didn't have a home outside of the job. Perhaps one day he might ask the woman about that... Speaking of his work in Scotland, he fully approved of his offspring's interest in the ongoing search for Avery's treasure. Fostering the idea that she might continue his work when he was gone, Rafe had even brought her to visit on occasion.

Glancing down at the child, he supposed that so far as topics to carry them from point a to point b went, this wasn't the worst. Honestly surprised to hear her talking about something he assumed had fallen out of publication years ago, he let out a little laugh, "They still make those?"

Quite the avid reader - as if either of her parents had left her much of a choice in the matter - the heiress didn't pay much attention to all the dates and copyrights. Who did? "It was probably something Mama found online."

Far from the busy little worker bee she presented herself as, Bai spent a considerable amount of time on the internet. As such her browser history entailed one store after another, with one or two odd sites thrown in between random searches. "Of course it was."

Crime scene indeed the favorite for social engagements, at first glance nothing seemed amiss. Engineered mesquite, the floors weren't showing any more signs of wear than usual. Silver inlay casting a grayish hue to the wallpaper due to the somber crystal lighting, the drapes remained intact and the same soft shade of blue as before. Even the potted hyacinth appeared to be unmoved, and Daniella had a penchant for rearranging the flowers to better suit her imaginary worlds.

Unsure what exactly to be expecting, for a moment Rafe thought that the child was just trying to actively waste his precious time as a ploy for attention. Aggravating as that scenario would have been, at least it was something he could understand and even relate with. All the same, maybe Bai had a good thing going with just sending Daniella to her room while she investigated and found a more suitable form of punishment. Although why the consequences were dressed around mental games that would break an adult was beyond him.

Then he noticed that the room's focal point was missing.

Hand-crafted and over a hundred years old, the clay plaster was an expanse without a true shape. Half the time it reminded the multi-billionaire of a snake coiled around a partition, and the rest of the time he was hardly bothered to really look at the piece at all. At best the artwork was a reminder of the woman that had bought it, or rather it was a testament to how much power she had. In general that show of presence was a good thing, but the particular memories that accompanied the hunk of ore...

Either way, it being gone wasn't going to break his heart. Daniella on the other hand was going to pay dearly for whatever had happened to it. Unless he were to step in for a change and remind Bai who the father of her spawn was.

Rafe mulled it over in his mind, ultimately deciding to give this incident a pass. Pursing his lips in thought, he regarded the best hope of the family's future with care, "What were you going to tell your mother?"

"That it was stolen." Simple, there was a kind of genius elegance to that reply that she was too young to understand.

Proud of Daniella for maybe the first time in his life, he crouched down to her level. Tearing his hand away from her pathetically clingy grasp, he ignored the delicate cry that caught in her throat. Instead he gave her something better by clasping her shoulders with a genuine smile. "Today you're my daughter. Remember this, because you'll probably never hear these words ever again."

Taken aback, the girl couldn't comprehend if she had done a good thing by confessing to her crime or if it was fibbing that had earned her father's attention. "I don't understand."

Good feeling tightening for a fraction of a second, he explained as best he could, "Everyone will tell you that truth and honesty are the best things to strive for in life, but you'll never get anywhere without knowing how to lie. It's part of what your mother and I do for a living, and it's why you can live the life you do. We steal and we lie through our teeth to get ourselves ahead, its who we are as a family, how the entire human race is. The key thing to remember is it's how well you can do it. Having that story ready before I asked you shows me that you'll be alright."

Apparently that was what ordinary parents wanted of their kids, knowing that they can support themselves when the time comes.


	25. Untruth

**\- Chapter Twenty-Three -**

 **Untruth**

Left with a lot to ponder, Logan had lingered long enough to overhear the thief's call to his little brother and "the wife".

Despite being able to only make out half of the conversation from his hiding place, hearing how they spoke, talking something about a niece and what he assumed had to have been her birthday, it cut him deep. Teeth more jagged than the shark that had nearly ended everything, the decades old wound reopened and left the surfer speechless. Buried below a lie he had convinced himself to believe, this was so much deeper than when he first had been told that his real father was a no-account cad that had run out of town on a whim. Maybe if Sam had denounced ALL family it wouldn't have felt so shitty, but...

Chelsea was what he needed right then. Literally everything to him, she had always supported his dream of finding his father to get answers on what he had come from, what he could have been. Even on their wedding day, she had asked him if he wanted more time to find his roots. A legit angel on earth, the only hesitation in her words was the caution that he might not like the answer he found. If he had ever doubted them as a couple, that was the moment he knew he'd found his soul mate. Suffering this harsh dismissal, the blonde needed to feel her arms around him as she assured him that this wasn't the kind of man he'd turn out to be.

Somehow, she always knew. She knew right from the start that the cocky surfer she treated in the clinic would ask her out, just like she knew to have her things ready to pack when he asked her to move in with him. On their honeymoon she even had admitted to having a hunch from the first that they were meant to be. Her pregnancy hadn't come as a surprise, even though it had been unplanned. Every time he brought it up, she promised that he would find his father, and he had. If she could have foreseen all of that, she must have also been able to know beyond the shadow of a doubt that he wouldn't hurt someone the way he had been hurt.

But she hadn't expected to be tied to her forever in such a traditional fashion. Nor had she ever dreamed that they would be purely monogamous from day one, yet they had been, because they'd both hoped that the relationship would be special. Point was, even Chelsea could be blindsided, so who was to say that someday he wouldn't become like Sam?

Terrified of shunning the baby he already loved more dearly than his own life, Logan refused to do it. His dad was right about one thing - his place was being home with Chelsea, where he belonged. Logan had been gone long enough.

Although it wasn't as simple as just picking up and leaving when he knew that Dani was missing. Conscience unable to accept that he had just let the girl be in her time of need, he couldn't live with himself if he didn't at least try to help. Like his old man, the heiress wasn't the biggest fan of the surfer either, but he had the feeling that she would at least care enough to do the same for him. It was just the vibe he got from her.

Careful to not be seen, and frankly more than a little relieved that he hadn't been caught for knocking into the shelf, he watched Sam ride off and decided to follow after.

 **[Sam in the city]**

Ronnie lived in a rundown apartment above a deli that used to be a shoe store in the 80's. One bedroom, one bathroom, no laundry room or any other amenity to speak of, not even a regular exterminator to deal with the frequent infestations. It suited him, as did the cheap memorabilia that served as the only expensive-looking decoration in the squalor. Hardly an excuse to smell like a dirty gym sock that been left to soak in turpentine for over a year, the only other things to contrast the peeling wallpaper were the framed team jerseys that fell off the back of a truck. Big sports fan, Ronnie.

Clad in the shining gold and violet purple of the LA team today, the man was considerably thinner on top than the last time he had seen the crook. The same couldn't be said for the man's middle.

"Sam Drake, as I live n' breath!" Cackling with a bad smoker's lung when the ex-con had knocked on the front door, Ronnie had stood aside after a heavy pause of transparent scrutiny, "Still runnin' that talent scout scam? Brilliant stuff. From the looks o' ya, I can't make up me mind if ya'd need ta."

Crossing the threshold, the grizzled brunette was struck with the foreboding that the roof above could cave in at any minute.

Glad that he wasn't carrying anything of particular value, Samuel casually strolled into the room with his hands in his pockets. Phone the only thing that might be missed in the likely event of theft, he brushed the device to make sure it was still there. He was wiser than to have anything incriminating stored within, and the important numbers were all coded and backed up just in case.

"I need information." Frankly he would have preferred to leave it there if he could, however Ronnie wasn't a mind reader, so Sam knew that he had to divulge more than that. Not prepared to say anything more about the person that had been kidnapped than was absolutely necessary, the career conman pulled out the oblong device from his coat. Still frame cued and ready to go, he showed the man-rat the video Chloe had dug up. "I need to know who these two are."

Playacting as if he had been hurt that this wasn't strictly a social call, Ronnie wheezed and whined, "Whateva happened ta the good ol' days? Technology has been a Godsend ta me work, yeah, but people have become increasingly cold." Wiping something from the corner of his mouth, he succeeded only in spreading it to the wiry coal black streak over his upper lip. "Alright, don't need ta twist me arm, lemme see."

Handed the phone with the grimace of a man that had been asked to part with his kidney on short notice, he peered at the screen for a grand total of eight seconds. Crappy as the quality of the shot was, he knew who the pair were - most of the time when someone was looking for someone else, it came back around to the couple. Hell, it was even getting to the point that he could have just assumed they were to blame without any kind of evidence, and chances were that he wouldn't be wrong to point the finger.

What he didn't know was why he should just give them up. "Tell me, whattya want with 'em? I'm sure ya could find better on Tinder." Tinder was still a thing, right?

If only this was that kind of snoop job. "I dunno, they look like good dancers to me."

Angel and Ashley? Hardly the ideal date on their own, to have an interest in both could only mean that someone important had been taken for Orange Tiger business. Ronnie's real question was who did Drake hold dear enough to make this kind of fuss over? The little brother immediately came to mind, but if Nate was in danger Sam would be throwing him into the nearest surface and threatening his life for a lead. No, this had to be something else, since the other man was willing to haggle.

"Care for some whiskey? I was about ta grab me a bottle 'fore ya showed up." One way or another, Ronnie could care less if his guest wanted a drink or not. If Sam refused that only meant that he got to save that much more for later, however, if the ex-con accepted there was an increased chance that he could get away with jacking the price up. Win-win.

Able to knock 'em back with the best, one drink wouldn't kill anything. Nodding with a serious expression that bordered on contemplative, the explorer pocketed his phone. Knowing precisely what he was walking into, he followed his host to a sitting room that was half kitchen and half living space. It reminded him of an ex's place, but he couldn't quite recall which one. As if it really mattered.

One drink turned into six a little too quickly. Less your standard shot and more a store-sized sample given out of a thimble, to say that Ronnie was stingy with his hospitality would have been generous. Still, that was probably for the best - every minute that the heiress was gone might as well have been another hundred dollars deducted.

"What can you tell me?" In all actuality, the better question would have been 'what _will_ you tell me?', but that might make it sound like he didn't trust his old "friend". Heaven forbid Ronnie get the wrong idea.

Shooting another swig straight from the bottle - backwash not his problem - the balding man mulled it over. So far they had played a light game of catch-up, and even that was only so satisfying. He wanted Sam to have to work for it, because in his mind things came too easy to the Drake brothers. Intelligent, capable, lucky, and objectively good-looking, it just wasn't right that the two had it all.

And also stalling was the usual business tactic. Living conditions more or less voluntary, Ronnie planned it so that by the time they finally reached the haggling stage the costumer might be more willing to part with a little extra, just in the name of getting the hell out of there.

"We've known each other a long time now, how many years would ya say?" Expecting an answer, he kept his beady eyes on the ex-con as the brunette spun the shot glass in his hands. Despite only having a finite number of remaining cups in the set, there was no immediate worry about Drake breaking the dish. Not yet.

Games sad as they were predictable, though his patience was running thin Sam forced himself to play along. If he acted rashly, the price for getting the information he sought would skyrocket. And that was before factoring in the identity of the heiress. Chancing nothing, he shrugged nonchalantly. "Nine, ten?"

Ronnie wondered if that was true. It seemed to be true enough, but it wasn't like he kept track of that sort of thing. What was he, a woman? He had better things to do than memorize every little anniversary and date. "Long time. In that time, ya came ta me maybe thirty times for names n' addresses. As a friend, I gave ya good intel, n' I never asked too much. As that same friend, I feel like I should warn ya now how dumb it is ta go lookin' for those two punks."

Sam was too stubborn to back down, everyone knew that, so this was clearly the rat picking for a bigger slice of cheese. Ronnie's network and client list left plenty of room to loose BOTH Drake brothers and not take so much as a dent.

Aware that they had to reach a starting baseline somehow, the adventurer knew that he had to sell a convincing story or risk Ronnie's suspicion. Depending on the kind of job it was, the usual price ranged from cash to used undergarments, but he had been known to take unspecified favors for later or even photographs. Knowing the rat, the pictures were likely divided into two folders; one labeled 'blackmail', the other was hopefully as vague as 'personal' and left no hint as to what was really inside. If the scumbag even suspected for a moment what was really at stake... Low creatures like Ronnie had ways of striking when things looked their bleakest, and they could hardly use yet another hindrance.

Praying to Christ that the weasel would settle on the lowest possible terms, the brunette came in low with the friend card, "I appreciate the gesture," Sam ceased his spinning just long enough to glance up at the other man, "I do. But this isn't something I can just walk away from."

"Oh?" For a thief of some notoriety, it was amusing (and beneficial) how often it boiled down to a pair of tits. Switch around the genitals where required, and perhaps the same could be said of all men.

Lying easy as breathing for the liberator of treasure and lost history, adding a touch of truth was the key to selling any lie. Curving the perspective to suit his needs, Sam parted with the version of events that had been stripped bare of any meat, "This one's special. Really special. She's younger-"

Uh-huh, that sounded like the Sam he knew.

"How young?" Speaking of predictability, Ronnie bounced on that like a starving man at a feast. "Young enough ta 'member this place when it was a shoe store? Or young enough ta get carded at the club?" A dirty old man that should have been on predator watch lists, his tone left no mystery as to which side of the spectrum he preferred this 'someone special' fell on.

"Young enough to be a check mark on midlife crisis bingo." That was vague enough to lure the fish in. "On the surface she's your typical rich girl with daddy issues. But she's eager." Chuckling, Sam was sure to leave another break for Ronnie to imagine what all that might have entailed.

Unfortunately what he failed to properly estimate was just how deeply it bothered the other man that he could pull in half of what he did at his age. While Nathan had chosen to settle, Samuel was free to go deep sea diving whenever he pleased, and it wasn't very often he came back empty-handed. Good thing for him that Ronnie wasn't a strong enough man to cling to jealousy when there was a prospective catch on the horizon. Before he even saw this little prize that the ex-con was nibbling on, the rat was already dreaming of what he could get out of it.

Bait taken in spite of decades of experience dealing with crooks and the desperate, Ronnie could have congratulated Sam. Assuming of course that they were to speak candidly for a change. Aware that this was a trap to take advantage of his darker nature, he demanded proof. Naturally.

"Don't be stingy, show me what's so important for ya ta risk life n' limb." And with Angel and Ashley, risking injury was the least of it - the pair were favorite torturers of the yutz in charge of this area's branch of Orange Tiger Association, Jian Ruan.

Phone a magical device with all kinds of nifty apps and programs, such as photoshop, Sam came ready for such a request. Technically the picture was one of Chloe's, taken to commemorate the near brush with death after the heiress had come to. Surfer lurking next to the savior at the end of the line-up, the original photograph was of the woman holding the survivor's shoulders in triumph. Cropping the blonde and the recognizable older female out of the frame, that left Sam and Daniella.

Camera-shy, Dells had turned her head away from the lens and into his shoulder by extension. Face bandaged heavily from getting smashed by the bottle, even with the HD capabilities of the smartphone, it was hard to distinguish a possible ID on the young woman. Who knew that her bad luck would turn out to be a good thing for a change?

As for what photoshop had done to the pic, suffice it to say that there was more skin showing than what Dells herself would have been comfortable with. Good thing she'd never have to know that somewhere in the world there was a hybrid edit of herself combined with some adult model.

"What happened ta her face?" Eyes glued to the curves of a healthy C-cup, the so-called concern in his inquiry came after a considerable stretch of silence.

Subscribed to ' _Butterface Weekly_ ', Ronnie was only caught off guard that of all the pictures Drake could show off, he'd pick one that hid 'something special's' mug. If it was his own woman he was bragging about, all the options would have been of the neck down. Maybe he was ashamed of her? Historically neither man was much for that inner beauty, 'great personality' malarkey, yet if he was willing to get thrown into the ringer, there must have been something that made her worth it.

Crap in a bucket. Sam had thought up an excuse on the way over, but he'd been counting on the silicon balloons to do all the necessary talking.

"Oh," spinning the glass between his left and right hands, thumbs pressed into the lip, he took care to not sound too dismissive, "she wasn't wearing a helmet and went for a nasty spill." That should have been more than sufficient to sell his story. "I spent the whole time by her side when she was recovering."

It wasn't.

"Lemme guess, her piss tastes like fine wine and ya can't get enough o' each other? It's just all so perfect in your little honeymoon phase, nothin' can get ya down!" In terms of details, he could care less about how the two had met, but he knew Sam, so it wasn't hard to figure out that this was all just a counter move. "I get fallin' fast n' hard for a young little meal, but there's no way you're gonna go this far for a lay. What aren't ya tellin' me, Sammy?"

What could Sam possibly say to that? He knew from the start that it was always a gamble to play this game, yet he'd been counting on Ronnie to handle it all a certain way. _Apparently it was capable of learning after all, who knew?_ In all seriousness, he wasn't sure on what he could do to convince the other man. If he fessed up that she was a job that would lead into a lot of questions, and if he wasn't careful going down that road, Ronnie just might start putting two and two together. At this point, he wasn't sure if he wanted to risk that.

Violence was always a way to go, but if he instigated a fight here that might make future dealings that much uglier. Christ knows that Ronnie would deserve it, but there were larger things at stake - namely his paycheck. Chloe and Nadine cutting in like this was already putting a kink into the plans he had for this payout, so he wasn't in a rush to hurt his pocketbook further.

On the other side of that coin, he didn't want to see his little princess suffer more than she had to. Poor kid had it tough enough with everything that was going on without having to worry that Ronnie would start stalking her. No, the young woman hadn't done anything to deserve that, or any of this really, but at least Ronnie was something he had the power to shield her from. Sam had put someone through that circus once before, and he wasn't in a rush to do it again.

"Alright," balancing the smudged glass on his leg so that the final swig of amber became as still as the surface of a mirror, he motioned surrender. "You caught me. I don't know what kind of problem these chuckle fucks are gonna give me, true, but I'm ready for 'em. We both know that I wouldn't risk my neck for just anyone - but I would for family."

The truth was a powerful thing. Especially when it was used as a weapon.

Family? There was no Drake sister hidden in the wings, and if this were Elena or the kid, Ronnie would have been talking to the other brother right now. Or more specifically, he would have been talking to his fist. Then... "Ah. Always knew it was a matter o' time-"

Conversation cut abruptly, there was a knock on the door. The thief recalled a time not so long ago when something as simple as a fist on the wooden frame had changed his life. Watching the scumbag struggle to pull himself up from the mustard-yellow armchair he loved so much that he would rather cover it in duct tape than just toss it, Sam refilled his glass. It was a nice change not having to be the one to answer.

It was Nadine.

"Oh, this just got even better!" In the smarmy criminal underworld of thieves and liars, there wasn't a veteran alive that didn't know the history between the two. Perhaps an overstatement, it was true enough that anyone that was remotely familiar with Sam and Nadine knew that they weren't the best of friends. "What are the odds?"

Tuckered slightly from the trek to the sinkhole - most of which had been taken on foot - she stormed in without an invitation. Having no clue that Ronnie was presently entertaining and angry that the bus had been late, it was obvious that she was in no mood to be trifled with. Her first reaction was to have her fist through Ronnie's front teeth, but her partner would have discouraged it. Shame for him that Chloe wasn't there.

Nadine knew that not all of her problems could be solved with action, but Ronnie wasn't the usual sort of obstacle. Punching him in the jaw, the former mercenary didn't greet him so much as start making demands. "I need names!"

Alerted by the noise, Sam paused when he saw Nadine. Sweat ran down the back of her neck and made her shirt stick to her skin beneath the buckled jacket she had thrown on, but that wasn't even the worst of it. Truly evil, the weather had fried her curls and left her with the look of a psychotic poodle that had stuck its paw in an outlet. It was too rich a thing to not laugh at!

Clutching his side in mirth as he doubled over, he couldn't not say between gales of laughter, "What the hell happened to you?! You look ridiculous!" For once he was actually glad to see her, but he just couldn't handle her appearance. "You need to see yourself!" Seriously, she must have changed how she took care of her hair after all these years, because he didn't recall ever seeing it look this bad before.

Leering, the former mercenary dropped Ronnie to the ground and turned her attention to Sam instead. Cold fury in her gaze, the woman turned her head to the side with a nasty grimace and let the man have it. Fist going straight into his gut, she winded the thief before turning back around to deal with Ronnie.

"Names. Now." Hissing in annoyance, she actually felt a lot better from just seeing Drake having to fall back into the cracked wall for support. Shame she had shown such restraint in the past.

Filled with the fleeting hope that perhaps the mere sight of the ex-con would make her forget about him long enough to slink away in the midst of a scuffle, Ronnie paled when she fixed her viper death stare on himself. Willing to bargain for a way out of this with no further damage, he spit out part of a fake tooth. "Need a face," huffing heavier than normal, it sounded like his lungs could have collapsed at any minute, "if ya expect me ta tell ya what ya need ta know."

Impressed that she had managed to just bypass all the bullshit to get an answer with a single hit, Sam made a mental note to remember just how strong Nadine still was. In all actuality it never should have been in doubt, but this was apparently one of those things you just took for granted without a reminder here and there.

Oxygen returning with a sense of balance, the first thing he managed to choke out was, "Would it have killed you to get here earlier?"

Collecting himself in the background, Nadine produced the same picture of Angel and Ashley that Sam had. Amused by the surprise that they were working together on this one, the former mercenary showing up like this really shouldn't have came as a shock. Threat somewhat diminished now that he understood the angle, Ronnie snorted at his own risk, "What, Sammy have everyone with a pulse lookin' for baby mama too?"

"What is he talking about?" Familiar with the phrase and aware of how dire the situation was looking, it was clear that they were both on about Adler. Nadine was appalled by the implications - bedding Rafe's daughter would have been bad enough, but to actually plant the seed?! _Wait a moment_ , she was confused by the timeline that Chloe had outlined during her explanation of the situation. Were Drake and Adler more acquainted than anyone realized? If that were true though, why would Ronnie of all people know first?

Sam didn't have the chance to answer, because Ronnie beat him to the punch. "Drake's spreadin' the seed. Knocked up some teeny bopper, n' now he's stuck dealin' with some bad cats. I say good luck gettin' her back in one piece."

"Why?" All muscle as she ripped the rat from the floor, she rammed the scumbag up into the wall. Admittedly there was less force in the motion than before, however he was feeling enough pain to remind him that she had no patience for games.

In awe of just how scary the woman could be, Sam felt goosebumps on his arms as he watched her break Ronnie with just a look. Realizing that he was fortunate to have Nadine on his side for this one, the historian was grateful that she had shown up when she had, otherwise this might have taken all damn day. He smirked when the informant cracked beneath the pressure of her arm, his soiled pants considerably wetter than they had been before he'd opened the door.

"Belongs ta Orange Tiger now, don't she?" Gasping for air when the former merc let up on his throat, the balding man rued the day he ever met Drake. "Them two in the pictures, that's Angel and Ashley. Need more o' a name, ya ain't speakin' ta the right people. If them's the ones that brought her in, it's anyone's guess if Sammy boy can even get her corpse back-"

Crowing the trinity of basic questions, Ross cut his feeble half-threats off, "Where can we find them?"

Everyone had to have some kind of base of operations, no matter what you were involved with or how much territory you could claim. For Rafe that had been the cathedral of Saint Dismas in Scotland, and though he was a bit harder to pin down, Drake had had a place for pretty much every country. Of late the exact coordinates would lead back to the hotel, but after all of this was finished, that probably wouldn't hold true anymore.

"Uptown." Angel and Ashley were a mobile service as dictated by their boss, however the brunt of what they did was carried out at the old police station. Assuming for a moment that they had a personal life outside of their jobs, it was anyone's guess what they would be doing or where they even laid their heads down at night. "Orange Tiger bought an ol' police station after it burned down in '09. They fixed it up, practically handed it ova ta the two."

Armed with all they needed to know to begin, Sam finally chimed in, "Nadine, be a dear?"

Mildly disappointed that her call to Wyatt had been rendered useless now that the connection was confirmed, she nodded and knocked Ronnie out cold. Definitely unable to hold his bowels back once he was out of commission, the trash slid down the wall in a smelly heap, limbs limp against the floor. This would have been the perfect opportunity to drop a quip about the maid coming in to clean up, however the closest the rodent nest had ever come to a cleaning lady would be the blow-up doll stashed besides the refrigerator.

About to follow after Drake, Nadine paused. It really wasn't any of her business, yet she couldn't shake the notion of her ally pursuing the Adler girl, "You never really did finish with Rafe, did you?"

* * *

 **Message from the Author:**

I'd like to thank Guest for the review! Reviews, actually. It really means so much to me to get even a single review, and you've given me the exact kind that I hope for - constructive criticism. Writing means the world to me, it's what moves me, and I'd love to get better at it! Sadly that's extremely difficult to do (at least it is for me) without a little help. I really enjoyed reflecting in "One Lousy Writer", it felt like a descent review of my flaws and fears, but the thing is, everyone sees things differently. Example, I was concerned that Bai in particular was coming across as fairly one-dimensional, but it sounds like Guest didn't get that interpretation. To get better, every possible angle is helpful, so THANK YOU! Hopefully you'll see this, and I hope this is what you mean when you spoke about transitions and breaks. Honestly I had some debate with myself about the actual scene shifts, or if the character POV within the scene shifts were overly jarring. Every chapter is a growing experience, so to everyone, I thank you for bearing with me as I refine my craft!

Thank you, Guest, and thank you everyone that reads this!

Ok, I'll shut up now and start working on the next chapter.


	26. The Last Birthday

**\- Chapter Twenty-Four -**

 **The Last Birthday**

Yellow-ish white and crusted to the corner of her desk calendar, the sickly splotch continued to stare the woman in the face. Getting underneath her skin as she attempted to review a proposition about company raises, Bai had been unable to focus on the list of pros and cons and instead kept eyeballing the unobtrusive annoyance.

Multiple scenarios mapped out for agreeing to or declining the proposed financial increase, the ability to power through the forms had been lost. Instead the bespectacled beast had turned her focus on removing the mystery substance. Minted currency a distant relic of the past when she got by with credit cards and a single name, she didn't have a coin to use. Improvising, a bent paper clip was used to scrape at the the curled compound. Likewise, the spare napkin from the sausage-and-bacon stew that was lunch had been used to wipe away the fine flakes to dispose of later.

Honestly she had no idea when exactly the ghostly sheet had been stained, however that was a distant line of thought compared to WHAT the compound had been.

As a businesswoman that dealt with a document or two - mainly to guard against incompetency and subterfuge - at first glance it seemed like whiteout. Only the bubbled smear was too thin for that. Also it wasn't often she corrected a mistake so far from her seat. Calendar near the edge of the upper left corner, to permanently cross something out where the stain was, it just didn't happen that way.

No, this wasn't a work-related accident. If anything, this was one of two things: banana pudding from the day the nanny had to drop the girl off an hour earlier due to a family emergency, or else it was a different kind of gift from Rafe. While both options were just about equally as likely, the smart money was on the later choice. Expect there was a dark horse in this race, and that was the cold she had quashed only a few days prior. Either way, still better than what had happened to last year's February page.

Speaking of Rafe, spending all that time facing the calendar wasn't doing her any favors.

Plate full enough with managing a little one and raising a multi-billion dollar organization, Bai hardly had time for herself, let alone overseeing Rafe's birthday. Formerly in a position where keeping her eyes peeled for suspicious activity had been the hardest part, somehow it had fallen on her shoulders over the years to oversee every tiny little detail.

In her head that responsibility was proof of how much they meant to one another, however Vegas had been the turning point. Fun as that night had been, being stranded by herself in the middle of nowhere wasn't particularly worth remembering. Although...

Bar fights and showgirls notwithstanding, it had all just become too much. Bai had done everything in her power all other 364 days in the year, it was time for someone - anyone - else to prove that they could be half as capable. Twice as ruthless and three times as demanding as usual, after the Vegas incident she'd finally done the smart thing and outsourced the job to a party planner.

Only with so much more to be grateful for this year than ever before, that just wouldn't fly this time around.

With the spotlight being shown on a man that strove to make his name mean something more than another link in a mighty dynasty, it was still worth celebrating the other milestones too! Keeping the focus in mind, when she thought about all the things that had been accomplished, the list sounded underplayed. To be fair, that was probably healthier for her ego.

Shy of the three year mark by a matter of months, it was close enough in moments like these to say that she had been clean for a couple of years now. Far from publicized but no less important, there was also the dissolution of her arrangement with one Samuel Drake to drink to. Bai knew in her heart that she would always love Rafe whatever happened, so it was only right she condemn her actions as weak and reprehensible. But like with her attraction to the snow, it was important to acknowledge six months being faithful without a second thought about cheating.

Too bad he couldn't know about that part.

Experiencing ups and downs like any normal couple would, she could feel it in her bones that they were on a path that was slowly leading back around to one another. So maybe it wasn't the same as it had been before Daniella had been born, and technically Nadine was coming around more frequently than she had in the past, but it really was looking quite positive. The one from Panama was still the biggest obstacle in their way, however she had a good feeling about that too. Her own history with Rafe was proof that even the hottest fires could burn out without tending the embers, and since that whole affair was so one-sided (at least it was where she was sitting), it was merely a matter of being patient.

Brought into the United States by less than legal means when she was only a teenager, Bai knew what it was to suffer. Waiting game the only company she had had while on the voyage from her home, the fear of being discovered at sea had been one of the single worst experiences of her life. In fact it was so bad that she would often times repress it to the point that she almost believed the lies she fed about coming over on a visa. And as the daughter of a strict tyrant that subscribed to the school of pain, that was saying something.

But there were no regrets, because to her Rafe was worth any wait, any torture, punishment, pain, or loss. There was only one thing that Bai wouldn't readily trade for him, because she was a part of him. Who knew, given time the crowning jewel could even grow to be like him. Heaven knows that there were worse role models for the girl; had the one from Panama been there, that would have been the perfect opportunity to side-eye the thief.

Unfortunately all roads seemed to keep circling back to the one from Panama, one way or another.

Close to a fish monger when she was young, Bai saw the relationship with the historian in a certain light. Apparently a cold blue illumination, the so-called expert had the look of a man that regretted his decision when she explained.

Painting a picture, she had told him to imagine being stranded on a beach, a ship just on the horizon. Starving and delirious, a beautiful trout with scale rot washes up on the shore. You know it'll make you sick, but it's so beautiful that for a moment you forget that there's hope on the horizon. After eating your fill, you realize just how hungry you've been, how long you've been forgotten and alone.

Then the Fate's play their cruelest joke yet - immediately after you pick the last bone from your teeth, the ship notices you. Unable to get to you for whatever reason, assistance comes in the form of small supplies. Despite the rescue, at the same time the exact variety of trout keeps washing ashore. Set as you are from what the ship is giving you now, you still find yourself eating the trout out of habit, and then out of boredom.

Mind made up, Bai was done with staying on the shore. It was time to be rescued.

Wife, girlfriend, lover, secretary, secret-keeper, second, friend, giver, submissive, in her head any of those roles fit what she shared with Rafe. As such, she wanted to give him something more than just a cozy night inside. If Nadine even had an inkling of what day was fast approaching, that was the type of boring thing the mercenary would settle for. Nice, but come on, Rafe was owed better than just one measly effort. The one from Panama would no doubt be plotting something to keep his position, however she saw it for the hollow survival move it was. Alone, whatever they were cooking wouldn't cut the mustard.

However, if they were to cooperate... Desiring to find something that might distract him from the frustration of not finding Avery's treasure for even just a night, Bai had been spending every free moment struggling to find the perfect gift. Sadly her best idea was also quite probably the worst: a foursome.

Again, it had been six months since the last time she'd strayed, and though he would never know what she had done for him, she wanted to keep it that way. The ex-con had been a mistake, one she had fallen into more than once, but that was over and done. Doing this, it wouldn't count against her if Rafe knew and was a part of the action.

The rub was managing to convince the other two. Asking Nadine was crazy on a lot of levels, and for any ordinary man it might have been enough to just be able to enjoy the pair, but Rafe deserved the best. She wasn't saying that that was the ex-con, but he certainly represented something that she couldn't give her lover.

 **[Later that night, Rafe's study]**

Resolved to make the most of the situation, Rafe had a glass (or two) of the bourbon he kept behind his desk.

More original than keeping the decanter in the globe, there was an entire bar built into the vault behind the family portrait. In his father's day, the painting that served as the door had been solely of himself, sans his wedding ring. Mother hadn't liked that very much, yet the same exact image had hung in the office for forty plus years. Rafe had a new "door" commissioned every year or so, and just to spite the old bastard that claimed to have raised him, he was sure that his own child wasn't left out. This year's model was still in the shop, so anytime he turned around he was greeted with the sight of Bai holding their daughter. Uncomfortable with holding the child on his own, the woman had only been brought in to hold the squirming toddler. Now that Daniella was getting less fussy, he had decided to make it just the two of them, a beginning of a new tradition for years to come.

Swishing the amber liquid around in his glass before taking a measured sip, the multi-billionaire glanced back over at the painting from the sofa next to the fireplace. Books on architecture and various trinkets of interest dusted the mantle above the open flame, but at that moment he didn't want to think about the lack of progress the team was making. To be fair he really didn't want to think about anything, so he'd retired early for the night.

"You did it. You got the keys to the kingdom and the king to give up his crown." Raising the drink in toast, he turned his icy gaze from one face to another. Vision getting a little bit blurry, a wise man would have taken himself to bed instead of gloat. However he wasn't so out of it that he had missed the sound of the office door whispering over the finely-cropped wool rug. "Greatness is waiting to be taken."

Fresh from fetching the Fräulein from her flight, Samuel knocked on the door frame after barging in. It was a well known fact that the two didn't get on all that well, and it was equally acknowledged that the ex-con jumped at any and all excuses to stretch his legs. After thirteen years in prison, that stood to reason. What Rafe didn't know was what had taken so long to bring Bai in. Surely someone from Shoreline had been handy to deal with her bags? After all this time stuck in the same location, it wasn't like the businesswoman needed a guide to find her room in order for her to get cleaned up for dinner.

Urgh, dinner. Rafe repressed a shudder at the thought of having to pretend to listen to the woman harp on about travel conditions. Or whatever unruly uprising she had to quash. That was her job now, not his. Also, he didn't care. Truthfully he could only muster up so much feeling and attention when it came to Bai going on about their offspring, and that was on a good day. If it weren't for that little girl, the woman would have been living a very different life - if she were even alive at all.

Okay, so he probably wouldn't have killed her without a good reason to do so, but mostly because of how valuable her services were.

"Funny you should say that..." Amused by something that he was surely dying to share with the rest of the class, Sam paused halfway to the ash-colored sofa to grab a cigarette. Old habits dying hard, his eyes skimmed over the Fabergé egg on the coffee table. Taking a seat on the corner of the matching footrest, he lit up with a laugh, "I think your old lady is waiting to be taken too."

Rafe hardly found that to be newsworthy, let alone worth so much as a titter. "So?"

Catching on that the woman had been added to the checklist of things to do, it didn't escape his notice that it was more on the reluctant side. For just a moment it seemed like the elder Drake brother questioned if he should chuckle at the woman's newly allotted status or feel bad. Bai was a thorn in his ass and was utterly terrible at hiding what she thought about the ex-con, yet their dislike wasn't quite hatred. Rafe knew precisely how harsh his words were, and he was unapologetic for it.

"You're gonna love this one - I know what your old lady wants to get you for your birthday." The other man knew his stance on hearing the woman being addressed in such a manner, however it wasn't entirely annoying this time. This time.

Suspicious in the way one only could be in the days leading up to their birthday, Rafe narrowed his eyes. "What?"

Recent cold suddenly making a lot more sense, he thought of the video call that had been wasted in front of the trash receptacle. Doing quick mental math that easily could have been wrong, he was prepared for what he might have to do. Consequences be damned, he would much rather go straight into her room that very minute, reach bare-handed into her guts, and tie her tubes himself than hear that there was going to be another one. Daniella was more than enough, and he still wasn't fully convinced that she was a keeper.

Unaware of where exactly the multi-billionaire's mind had gone, Samuel proceeded with his story. "I'll give you three guesses."

Faced with the prospect of becoming a single father, the look he gave his expert made it clear he wasn't in the mood for riddles. Any other time he might have been game, but not today.

Balking, Sam knew better than to test his luck at the moment. "Alright fine, we can do it your way. It starts with you, her, and yours truly."

"I see." Picking up on the pattern of three as well as the lead-up to this point, it wasn't exactly rocket science connecting the dots. Threesomes were't unexplored territory for the couple, but they were far enough between that he had to question who the supposed 'gift' was really for. Manipulative and more than intelligent enough to pull off such a ploy, had her dislike for Drake been a long-con to make this move?

Although...

Weighing the factors to establish that he wasn't entirely opposed to the idea, Rafe slowly tilted his head to the side. Mulling it over, he took another drink before meeting Sam's eyes, "And what did you tell her?"

Drag lasting longer than normal, he debated with himself about whether or not he should answer honestly, without a joke. Rafe and Sam had known each other a long time now, so it wasn't a complete mystery as to what was going on in the ex-con's mind. All the same, he had a better poker face than to just give everything away, so the shorter of the two wasn't entirely ready for what came next.

"You're not seriously considering this." The thief had done a lot of regrettable things in his life, but this wasn't something he was jumping for. Strangely enough, Rafe would have thought that this was the kind of thing that Samuel would have gone for. If he didn't feel like he understood his fellow grave robber so well, he might have considered the possibility that he had misread the man. "Are ya?"

The look on the other man's face wasn't a no. But Drake's answer was.

"No." Sam knew the look in those icy orbs, and he didn't like it, "Rafe, no."


	27. Old Enough To Remember

**\- Chapter Twenty-Four (And A Half) -**

 **Old Enough To Remember**

Date set, invitations sent out and awaiting reply and returning, the day was almost upon them. Spring-themed with bright flowers from across the globe, the sugar maple in the yard had been wound with sweet-smelling garlands. Strawberry-flavored ice cream inside frosted vanilla, the half dozen individual cakes were on ice and placed inside bell-jars littered with edible flora. Leftovers from Chinese New Year, simple paper lanterns hung from the roof and criss-crossed over the lawn. An outdoor event, there were even butterflies that had been specifically bred just to release at the right moment.

Glitter was in the air and would be for another week or so, thanks to a certain "helper" that had broken into the party supplies and loosened the sparkle into the ventilation. It was quite lovely actually, however Daniella had been strictly reprimanded for her actions. So what if the effort was all for her birthday? The child needed to learn that there were repercussions when she was naughty.

Rafe hadn't been home for a while, so he wasn't expected to make an appearance. Bai left messages about needing to be there for his daughter now more than ever, but she doubted he had received more than the first few. Completely voluntary, one of the invitations had been cut, glittered, glued, and hand-written by the birthday girl. For mom, it was annoying as it was painful to not get the same, but she supposed that it had something to do with being a constant fixture in the girl's life. Touched by how hopeful Daniella was that her father would make an appearance, if he ended up missing the occasion, there would be consequences for him as well. No one would make her baby cry - not even her daddy.

Not again.

Business being as important as it was, when their daughter hit her terrible twos, he had been excused for his absence. Daniella wouldn't remember that anyways, although she would never forget having to explain that Daddy never meant to miss her special day. The multi-billionaire had begun to come around to their child by that point, so it was understandable that the little girl had bawled herself to sleep with the only word she knew. For whatever reason - okay, so maybe Bai understood - Daniella adored her father, he could do no wrong.

Even after he had completely ignored her third birthday. Chances were considerably higher that this would leave some kind of an impression with the girl, yet he had made no visible effort to show up. There were a number of important deals being made in the shifting climate, however he could have spared a day for his daughter. Even just a moment to call her. But no.

Year four on the earth had been slightly better for her, in the sense that Rafe had at least gotten it through his head to explain to her why he wouldn't be showing up. Bai loved that man dearly, but when it came to their little girl...! Murder burned in her sapphire eyes, but for her baby's sake she had refrained from maiming the bastard. Well, at least he had had the decency to make it up to her by spending an entire weekend in the city of her choice. Somehow that had turned into just over a week, however the bespectacled businesswoman had been so overjoyed by the turn around that she didn't question it.

This year didn't seem like it was going to have a particularly happy ending - they'd discovered something highly relevant to the search for Avery's treasure. What it was, she had no clue. Honestly they'd taken so long to make any headway with the hunt, she stopped caring. Sure, she would fake it every time a break-though had been made, but it just wasn't interesting. More to cover her own ass than anything else, when any kind of ground had been gained, she encouraged Rafe to tell Daniella about it instead. The girl was so very much like her father in that they both cared about the past and the relics left behind.

Far from the dignified lady she wanted, but at least that meant they were bonding. Daniella thought the world of her father, but in Bai's mind it was high time he earned it.

 **[Father of the Year]**

Had he been approached with the theory of another cross before acquiring the services of an expert in all things Avery, Rafe would have laughed. If there had been more than one cross made, why had it taken so long for anyone to uncover it? And if there had indeed been a second cross issued, then that would have meant that everything that had happened in Panama had been for nothing. Well, maybe not every tiny little thing, but the overall job.

But then lo and behold, there had been a blip in the archaeological world about the recovery of a number of long-buried goods. Dialed in to these sorts of announcements, out of mere curiosity he had decided to look into the unearthed collection, but he hadn't been expecting much. Maybe some previously unknown letters or jewelery that had belonged to one royal or another, but nothing to do with Henry Avery or the Gunsway Heist.

Samuel had been cooped up a long time, and whatever would be on display would have been of interest to him as well. Nadine had been asked if she'd like to come along, however the woman declined. Better to keep her eye on the prize at hand then get swept away into the next job ahead of the completion of this one. A likely story, but he suspected that she was more weary of playing dress-up and spending time with Drake than getting caught up in an insignificant distraction. The mercenary could really clean up, yet he hadn't pressed the issue.

It also may have been suggested that he take his daughter to the exhibit. Daniella had proven herself to show genuine interest in the past, so unlike most children she would have appreciated the experience. He was tempted to bring her along, but it was rather short notice; the plane would require fueling, the captain would need to be plucked out of some casino, and the girl would have to be displaced for at least an entire weekend. Although disrupting the schedule her mother adhered to so strictly was a good enough reason for him...

Understanding why it was that the mother of his child clung so desperately to every penciled-in appointment on the clock, he wasn't entirely thrilled with the woman. Not these days. To be fair it was a small little thing, yet it was still wriggling beneath his skin every single time he thought about it, about her. He always knew that a child would be a hassle - that was why he'd had procreating put off for so long - however he couldn't control every hand he was dealt. Not completely.

All the same, in some strange way it was all working out in his favor.

"Samuel," Rafe set the steak knife back down on his plate and glanced over at his dinner companion, "you should take in the sights." City bustling with no shortage of things to do, in truth the multi-billionaire had been thinking about it all day, but had only just made up his mind. The display would be up for at least a week before it would be auctioned off, so there was time enough to see the collection and keep everyone happy and away from one another. "Tomorrow is Daniella's birthday. She should spend it with someone that really matters."

Rare prime rib-eye drizzled with freshly squeezed citrus that still smelled of the vineyard, the juicy meat gushed a wave of blood when the fork pierced the tender flesh. Garden green beans and mashed potatoes shoved to one side and mixed together, what was left was soaking up the gore. Dinner not complete without something to wash it all down, the historian was already on his second beer. Rafe was still on his first, but other than that they were enjoying the same meal.

Nadine had been the one pushing the daughter issue, but for once the pair were in agreement. Not that either would readily admit it in so many words. "I can do that."


	28. Hearts of Steel

**\- Chapter Twenty-Five -**

 **Hearts of Steel**

Sharp in his hand as he gave the jagged piece a squeeze, a second pane fell from the top of the cracked frame. Cutting through the damp breeze like a guillotine and shattering into little more than dust and splintered shards, the quality of the non-crystalline product left a lot to be desired. While disappointing, given the history of the building it wasn't entirely surprising.

Glimmering like faded gold in the angelic glow escaping through the cast iron clouds, the man gazed at the rubies beading along the edge of the glass. Today was just one thing after another, with no end in sight.

Could the day just end already?

 **[Earlier That Day]**

Reconvening at the bike in silence, Nadine and Sam finally looked at each other for the first time since leaving Ronnie's apartment.

Job far from finished, learning the identity of the punks that had snatched his paycheck was a descent start. Having a location on where to start the search was another break, yet it wasn't nearly enough. Nothing would suffice until she was back in Sam's custody, as per the contract with her mother. Urgh, he could only hope that the businesswoman heard tell of this little hiccup _AFTER_ he had claimed his reward for keeping her kid safe.

Until that happy moment, all his expertise in the matter told him that they would need a plan for getting into the building. Everyone in their circle had at least one major find under their belts, this was just the first step in that process. On a technical level, schematics of the old police station uptown would be nice, so that was where Chloe could come in.

Cagey about the possibilities, in Drake's mind Nathan and Elena had been bothered enough by this venture. Frazer wasn't rusty, and she didn't have a family on the line. Anyways, it was the least the woman could do. Mistake nothing short of monumental, getting them what they required would be a start on the road to making amends.

Phone secure and intact for another day, the more experienced fortune hunter still felt a small sense of relief when he brushed against the device. There were some pretty choice photos that he hadn't quite gotten around to backing up, so it would be a shame to lose all that hard work... if you could call that work.

Digging deeper in his pockets for the keys, he figured that Nadine could handle filling Chloe in. The pair were close, so she was probably much higher up on the speed dial for the former merc.

Besides, with her busy on the phone that gave him a window to peruse through the internet to research who they were up against. Assuming that they weren't thick enough to squander the opportunity of having the Adler heiress in their clutches, seeing any kind of demand wasn't likely. Not straight away at least. But kids these days were dumb enough to post all kinds of incriminating evidence to their social media accounts, so one never knew. To be fair, information dumps weren't limited to the young...

What ever happened to finesse, a little thing called discretion?

Voice level, if the ex-con hadn't known any better he wouldn't have guessed that she had just beaten the ever loving crap out of the scumbag for information. Then again, this was Nadine Ross, so he kind of expected her to always be menacing some poor sap.

Pivoting slightly to the side for a sense of privacy, the woman initiated the conversation. "Wyatt?"

Okay... so that wasn't Chloe.

Unless she had changed her name in the last hour or so and had only told the former mercenary about it. While highly doubtful that the duo would conspire to pull something that idiotic at the time being, or ever for that matter, the more pressing question was who the hell was this Wyatt character? And why was Nadine calling him at a time like this? "I don't really think this is the time for a booty-"

Holding up her finger, she shushed the thief mid-sentence, "I have an update on the situation."

Rude much?

 **[Mother and Son]**

"Reliable?" Unfortunately in the world it was never quite as easy as just trusting someone at their word, even if you wanted to. Survival the name of the game, certain compromises had to be made, but for the soldier it was still a question worth asking.

In their lines of work it was all relative, so she humored the familiar train of thought. Information obtained through an effective combination of intimidation and assault, in this instance Ronnie could be trusted at his word. Not that that did much to comfort her worries. "Ja."

Not exactly rocket science, Wyatt could tell by the way his mother hesitated that it wasn't so black and white. "Ronnie?" Truth be, there were plenty of other rats that could have filled in the blanks, but the odds of that were slim to none. That sick bastard had his ear to the ground even in his sleep, so he knew what had happened almost as soon as it went down.

"Ja." A small unconscious reaction, the former mercenary inclined her head ever so slightly when she confirmed the source. "Turns out that the two who took the Adler girl are part of the Orange Tiger Association after all." She consciously ignored Drake when he scowled at her for discussing who the missing person was. He would get what was coming for him, but in the meanwhile there were more important things to focus on, such as actually getting the heiress back. "Do the names Angel or Ashley mean anything to you?"

He knew the names. "I should have guessed when you called me earlier."

Surprise obvious as it was in her voice as it was on her face, the woman wished that Wyatt would have said something sooner if he had had a hunch. However she didn't mention it; in fact, she justified his lack of suspects as a matter of quantity. It was a sizable city after all, and who knew just how large the organization really was. "Oh, you've heard of them?"

"Ja." The pair - Angel in particular - had given him more trouble than he cared to admit. "My advice moving forward is to gather a team so we can strike them and get the Adler girl back. A small team." Easier to move quietly.

 **[Same City, Same Sam]**

Listening to the audible side of the call as his thumbs kept scrolling through trophy shots, Sam waited for Nadine to hang up before launching into an abridged version of twenty questions. Contrary to popular belief, the thief did know when to keep his cake hole shut. Sometimes, it was just really that fun to irk the adversary. The bruises afterwards not nearly so...

But today that wasn't Nadine, so he waited patiently for his opening.

"Care to share with the rest of the class?" Glancing up nonchalantly from his phone as if they had all the time in the world to waste, the brunette played it cool.

Frankly he could care less who this person was and what the connection to Ms. Ross entailed. He was merely concerned about the bottom line. Well, that wasn't strictly true - Sam was also weary about if they should be worried about every scumbag in the business jumping on the trail or not. With Daniella's picture plastered across every available surface these days, he felt like it was only a matter of time until people started getting bright ideas.

Dreading this moment from the look that flashed across her face, the woman steeled herself for the impending insults. Usually his words weren't anything more than an annoying fly that needed to be swatted away, they both knew that, however this had every appearance of being serious. Maybe he would throw her a bone and try to chill it with the snark, maybe...

Thumb lingering over the call button, the former mercenary's first instinct was to clam up. This was clearly very personal for her, but with all the stalling the historian knew that he had to hear it now. Aware that she wouldn't be shown mercy, Nadine took the plunge without further hesitation. "On the way to Ronnie's I called a contact that knows a thing or two about the Orange Tiger Association."

"Wyatt." It was one thing for these punks to go around with a single name and get away with it, but Nadine was the sort that would surely require something more substantial than a single name to go by. "I trust he has a last name to go with that?"

"Ross."

A single syllable explained it all to the thief, however that same answer had opened a floodgate in his head.

Broken for a moment, he questioned who would be dumb and/or crazy enough to hook up with fury and muscles over there. Aside from Rafe. And Chloe? And quite possibly Victor...? For whatever reasons those two got on remarkably well, which he found to be highly suspect, especially after everything that had happened. Also why was this the first he was hearing about the kid? Continuing the line was kinda major, easily something that ought to have come up in conversation before now. Or had it been brought to light before, and he just hadn't been listening? Sounded about right for him.

"As in related?" To be fair, Ross wasn't an uncommon surname.

Kind enough to confirm that she was an only child, there seemed to be something akin to relief in the words, but perhaps that was just Sam's imagination. "My son." He guessed that she didn't get the chance to say that often.

To her credit, the woman had recently raised an interesting point that he wasn't exactly eager to explore. Reluctant as he was to visit the possibility, he had to wonder if maybe he wasn't the only one being haunted by their favorite deceased psychopath. Either way, that was no reason to drudge up something that was clearly a big deal for the mercenary-turned-treasure hunter. He wasn't a complete monster.

Faced with a choice, Samuel scoffed as she dialed up Frazer, "If the kid expects any money out of this, it's coming out of your share."

 **[Captive of the Old Station]**

Everything had happened so quickly, a moment to digest it all was probably what the doctor would have ordered. Key words being 'would have', Daniella had no intention of sitting idle and waiting to be rescued. What was she, some damsel in a video game? Bound and unconscious for too long, the young woman had grown listless and had to move about if she were to keep her mind. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins, so for the moment she was nigh invincible! Only trouble was, that was a temporary state, so she had to make the most of her situation.

Terms discussed in a civil enough manner, as a show of good faith Jian had had her moved to a new location. Despite being issued in Mandarin, the command had been in the form of a code. Playing up the feeble card (as if it was much of a lie), he ultimately ordered her taken elsewhere. At least, she thought it was elsewhere... It was rather hard to be sure when a bag had gone back over her head during the transition to keep her from getting her bearings.

Cooperating in that she allowed herself to be escorted into the new cell, she wasn't deluded enough to get confused about where she stood. Hands rough over raw cuts that had been wrapped too tight, shoved this way and that, it was just as disorienting as when she had been brought to interrogation. More than once the young woman had felt the barrel of a gun press between her shoulder blades; the first time had been purely threatening to keep her line, which would have been understandable enough without the downward zig-zag motion. Yet she had gone without a peep, stepping when prompted and sitting as directed.

When the suited goon removed the blindfold from her eyes, the last thing she had expected to find was herself seated at an old desk. Honestly it reminded her of being brought to the principal's office. Only much more severe.

Surmising that this room had once been an office of some kind, the elevator ride suggested that there were multiple floors. Logic dictated that having natural light and a view would be more productive to employees, so she wasn't underground. Being shut away in an upstairs office was just the break the heiress needed. No longer shackled to a chair at the mercy of Angel and Ashley, almost anything would have been an improvement, but this... this was practically the royal treatment!

Minds games feeling like an old friend at this point, though she seemed alone Daniella wasn't dumb enough to believe it. Ordinary folks that found themselves in this position were probably monitored for the duration of their stay, and she was special. For better or for worse, the heiress couldn't pretend otherwise. That was a part of the reason why she loathed liars - she envied them for every moment they could change their truth.

Seated for a reason that was probably as simple as keeping her down to take the hood off her head, she remained in the hard interview chair opposite the window. Waiting just long enough to be polite to anyone that might be coming to speak to her, when it dawned on her face that she was alone for the first time since being abducted, Daniella took the opportunity to assess the damage.

Angel's patch job had begun to cut off the circulation, so she attempted to wedge her nail between skin and bandage to loosen the woven circlets. Not only had that not worked, she'd succeeded only in jabbing her finger too far and too deep, causing a whole new wave to spurt out against the cloth. Definitely not a part of the plan!

Leaving it be with mild nausea (her guess being that the cause was substantial blood loss) and a persisting throb, her hands had moved from her various injuries to the untended marks of Ashley's game. It hadn't seemed intentional, but in hindsight the heiress had to wonder if the pre-game ritual hadn't been the purpose all along. Either way, the marks looked an awful lot like a the letter 's'. Not surprising, given all the times she had been called a slut.

Frightened of how mangled she would be once everything was said and done, the young woman laid her hand against the outermost part of her thigh. It hurt enough to bring a dampness to the outer corners of her eyes, but it was worth knowing that she still had feeling in her legs. What wasn't encouraging was that her hand had come away wet, and it wasn't all blood. Of course she had pissed herself - anyone would have from how horrifying the ordeal was (not to mention the lack of a proper bathroom break), but being on her period on top of it all was just the icing on the cake.

"Of course I have be bleeding from the inside out." Being that time of month wasn't a newsflash by this point, but so much had been going on it had slipped her mind.

Time running low to capitalize on the fear she'd endured, the heiress groaned to herself and began to search the room. Stain obvious once she took a better look at herself, if anyone came poking around while she searched, she could simply tell them that she was looking for something to help with the bleeding. It would be harder to sell to a woman or someone with a sister or wife or whatever, but not impossible.

Barren as the halls on moving day, there wasn't a whole lot to find. Expecting as much, she knelt down under the window and curled up in as tight a ball as her body would allow. Sun at an angle that only hit her knee and toes, she subtly used her vantage point to better examine the area for exploitable weaknesses.

Carpentry wasn't exactly a hobby, but she had learned as a child how to appraise materials and their approximate ages; oddly enough math had come in handy, as had working in the community with the less fortunate. Walls revealing the station to be older than most codes, the wear in the frames confirmed that not a lot of renovation had gone on upstairs. Maybe in the whole building, but she only needed to concern herself with this one room.

Late afternoon come and gone, the evening glow was building towards the kiss of dusk, however there was still maybe an hour to go. That was good - night would offer some cover at least, however being God knows where in unfamiliar territory, there wasn't such a thing as sanctuary. But Daniella couldn't give up. Not there.

Act at an end once she felt like she had learned all she needed to know, Daniella rose from her position on the floor. Slowly at first, she was mindful to not telegraph her plan in case she was being observed in real-time.

Turning to the window as if she'd meant to watch the sun set on her hopes, the heiress found that this cell was on the second story. Miffed that she had had a bag placed over her head when it was so easy to discover that she was two floors from the ground, Daniella clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Really?!" Obviously this was better than some basement or whichever, but that bag stank of dried vomit and sweat, as if it had never been washed.

Back to the sights, there was an entire row of offices across the street, but odds were that even if they had anyone working them, she wouldn't find any help there. Window unadorned and unprotected, it appeared that this was the tower for Rapunzel and anyone else that lacked the drive to escape. Too bad for them that that wasn't her. Not any more.

Hand pressing into the transparent wall between this and freedom, the young woman twisted away from the light and retreated back into the heart of darkness. Head hung low as if to hide tears, she stumbled to a gradual stop. Praying that the bushes planted beneath the windows were enough to cushion the fall, she ran at the window with everything she had.

And promptly bounced off the glass.

Okay, so maybe she should have tested the strength of the barrier out better before just going for the gold... And better adjusted the trajectory of her jump - part of the failure laid in her miscalculation of accounting for her present condition when lunging. Not a mistake she would make again! Aware that the noise would have been enough to rouse anyone that might have been guarding her room, she picked herself back up and tried again.

Bourne high on invisible wings, carried by fight and weighed just enough against gravity by the fear of getting caught and paying the price, she made it. Whole body thudding against the glass the first time, this time she was soaring through the air...

 **[Angel]**

Another case of wrong place, right time, Angel was on the way out when it happened. Or perhaps it was right place, wrong time? Eh, same difference. Ash was practically at the hip - as was only natural and right - and a call came in from an outside number. On edge with Ashley after today's session, maybe the brutalizer was just looking for any excuse to snap, but before any kind of identification could display on the screen, it was World War Three.

Eyeballs in danger of popping out behind Bootsy shades, the color red was invading every last corner of the world. "Really?"

Ignorant of what was brewing, Ashley took the call. "Go."

Unable to get over what had been said in front of the spoiled little princess, anger was all that was coursing though the bloodstream. Thankfully for Ashley, there was something stronger keeping it at bay. For the moment. They hadn't fought in a while now, so this felt like a dozy. "They can't even wait for you to get off of work now?"

Out for blood as a rule, for Ash's sake Angel took a step back to calm down. "You know what? Forget it. I can't be near you right now. Have fun with... whatever or whoever that is. Just don't call me tonight."

Ashley was too quick to take the offer. In truth Angel had been more on the spectrum of irked than actually angry, but that reaction certainly had done it.

Storming off to be alone, Angel had only made it so far as the street when the phone rang. The only difference between this and what Ashley had done was that this was still work. They'd incorporated a system to know when they could leave the phone or when it was time to answer, all with three different ring tones. Work was serious and to the point, where as anything not related to the job was given something jazzy. For one another, they'd busted out the lyrics that hit the other right in the feels.

"It's hunting season." Tone cool, the boss said what needed to be said and hung up.

Clever slut. Curious as to how she had managed to slip away, Angel returned to the scene and headed back upstairs to the last place she had been stored. Ashley was doing business with one of Jian's guards at the elevator, so stairs it was. That was fine, it gave the girl that much more of a head start.

Once a standard office for the moderately successful inspectors, there was no mystery as to what had transpired in the demoted cell set aside for the more upscale guests. Going to the window to investigate an open and shut case, it was every early action movie ever when Angel stepped through the broken wreckage to get a better grasp on the damage.

"Run fast princess." Amused enough to almost root for her if this had been a movie, Angel picked up one of the larger remains of her handiwork.

Sharp in his hand as he gave the jagged piece a squeeze, a second pane fell from the top of the cracked frame. Cutting through the damp breeze like a guillotine and shattering into little more than dust and splintered shards, the quality of the non-crystalline product left a lot to be desired. While disappointing, given the history of the building it wasn't entirely surprising.

Glimmering like faded gold in the angelic glow escaping through the cast iron clouds, the man gazed at the rubies beading along the edge of the glass. Today was just one thing after another, with no end in sight.

"Run fast." Speaking to no one in particular, he smirked at the hole that she had left behind.


	29. Internal Affairs: Hers

**\- Chapter Twenty-Six -**

 **Internal Affairs: Hers**

Every rose may have it's thorn, but not every thorn has a rose.

A shade more literal than poetic (bad poetry at that), Daniella had learned that the hard way. Scraping herself up from the tangle of limb and leaf spattered across the quote unquote green, the only way was forward. In full fledged fight-or-flight mode before there was even the tiniest hint of pursuit from Jian and his men, there was no single concept outside of survival.

Pain was a fleeting luxury that seemed a foreign ideal, as was time itself. Without sounding too pretentious and up her own ass, the young student could only comprehend what absolutely needed to be processed in order to see another day. Any and all extraneous details were logged away for later, including the searing ache laced within every breath. The blurred lines of salt rimming her lids and hanging from her lashes with damp sweat, the kiss of acid flame in the back of her throat.

Even the anger and rage had smoldered to but an ember.

Dizziness adding fuel to the outside of the gas cans, there wasn't so much as a single window to realize what had been contributed to the collection of scars and stories her body was becoming. Even if by some fluke there had been time, it would take longer than a few seconds to figure out which incisions were caused by shrapnel and which were plant-based. Honestly if there had been just a moment to spare, her first and only thought might have been that she was happy to be wearing shoes this time, but that was only a guess.

To be fair, in hindsight there were a lot of blanks to fill in. What wasn't quite as debatable was the new environment the young woman had found herself in.

While the five second upstairs glance had painted a certain kind of picture of what to expect, real life was once again colder than the imagination. Bridge only visible from the second story up, without the distant crawl of traffic everything was empty and a gloomy shade of gray.

Asphalt was obviously going to be dark, but the murky puddles that had yet to dry or evaporate somehow made it seem grungier than it had been from above. Maybe that was all due to differing angles and suddenly being able to smell the exhaust and ripe trash that overflowed from every direction. Color-wise, the offices across the street now seemed to deepen from a dull cream to a gritty pearl, and that was certainly because of the change in prospective. Unexpectedly, some of the rooftops almost seemed coral in the encroaching sunset, which only made the rest of the grimy walls and streets that much bleaker.

Yet at the same time, it was also a sign... A bright beacon of where to go next...

Hopefully it wasn't as obvious to the enemy.

Low-profile the name of the game, the escapee extended her hand out for the unkempt grass to steady herself as she tucked and rolled oh-so-gracefully to the side. Movements wobbly but sufficient to get the job done, the heiress crouched behind one of two marble statutes depicting a watchful eagle. Hunting and shooting the actual bird may have been illegal, but apparently defacing a stone replica was fair game, because it was quite the task to identify the stone beneath all the tags. Unequivocally the worst part, the leering peepers that had been graffitied over the hawkish eyes only served to fuel her paranoia and general panic.

Rules of logic and cinema implying that she keep to the sidewalk and shadows, the only time the heiress broke the unwritten code was to give doorways and windows a healthy berth. Remaining hunched the entire time she was on the ground, the young woman darted around the corner of a dumpster to hide when a door opened in the deepening city gloom. It was too sudden to be sure of where exactly the door might be, but it was close enough to set Daniella off. Eyes darting in every which direction, there was no sign of who or even where the sound had originated from, but she wasn't about to take any chances.

"Please, please, please..." Voice barely a whisper, she was prepared to run away at a moment's notice.

Heart jack hammering in her ears to the erratic rhythm of some techno-electric dub fusion, the espresso-hued brunette waited for the person or persons to be gone before popping her head out from the safety of its cover. Once she felt like the threat level had receded from red to orange, it dawned on her that staying out in the open was only going to send her into cardiac arrest. Assuming that she wasn't snatched back up first.

And honestly it wasn't like she was giving herself very much credit.

"...!"

A rabbit in human skin, a lone upwards glance revealed that there was a fire escape just out of reach. The next move was obvious, but _eww_ (had she been in her right mind and had the leisure)! Still, when ration eventually caught up it would be with the justification that it was better to only need a bath full of sanitizer than a body bag.

Touch reluctant all the same, Daniella eased the lid closed so that she had a flat surface to stand on. Scrambling over the top of the receptacle, she used the newfound height to her advantage. Wasting no time, the young woman sprang up for the ladder, fingers just barely clasping around the bottom wrung. Shimmying up the vertical rail with as much speed as possible without drawing undue attention, the path only led her so far. Left with nowhere else to go but the very top of the building, she scaled the old stone windows, grateful for their wide lips.

Unpracticed in the art of climbing buildings but not a complete stranger to conquering rock walls, the ascent wasn't awful. There were a few slips and her hands would definitely be banged up, but it wasn't like she held much in stock for outer beauty. And a good thing too, all things considered. Mama on the other hand... Easily a conversation that only happened once the young woman had been able to catch her breath, the only real thoughts that might have been going on in her head at the time were simple facts.

Such as being utterly lost for directions and still a little discombobulated from her ordeal. The hell if she had had the foggiest notion of where she was or what direction to go in.

Honestly at that moment Daniella's sole concern was putting as much distance between herself and the station as she could. Everything else could come later.

 **[The Plan]**

"I already checked. Twice. On two different maps." Cocking her head to the side as she waited for the inevitable rebuttal, Chloe was growing bored with having to explain that it was the best entry point. Honestly he was being a big baby over nothing - she'd had to trudge through many a filthy underground, but she hadn't complained half as much as the thief. "The sewers will take you right under the station parking garage."

With nothing to add to the back-and-forth, Nadine kept going over the blueprints sprawled across the library desk. Wyatt was only half-listening, just in case something important or noteworthy was dropped, as one did. Mostly though, he was surveying the line of encyclopedias collecting dust on the shelves. Pulling one out after the exchange became longer than anticipated, he began to read up on things beginning with the letter 'w'. Out of his element and "lucky" to be included, Logan was just quietly taking it all in.

Getting dirty, that was just your average Friday night for the ex-con. And Thursday, Wednesday... alright, so it was a bit of a habit. What wasn't a habit these days was breaking into a police station run by a vicious crew that cared even less than the average scumbag with a badge and a gun. After spending thirteen straight years in a prison, Sam wasn't exactly in a rush to return to the memories of his incarceration, however it had to be done if he was going to get paid. He just didn't understand why he had to be the one to take the route that would lead him passed the holding cells... any one person there could have taken the low ground, they all had the strength required to lift the grating.

Chloe he understood - she would be on standby as the eyes and ears, her other duties including getting them the hell out of the vicinity at a moment's notice. Obviously the most inexperienced of the party, Logan would best serve as back-up for when things got hairy. Key word being _WHEN_ , not _IF_. Being among the heavy-hitters, the A team wasn't complaining any about his role, just the path they wanted him to take. Gate crashing via two separate entrances, the B team would slip in through a side door and split up from there.

An alternative suggestion to the alloted formation saw Logan scouting the front to discern what they would be up against, freeing Chloe to partner with Nadine. Naturally the girls could come in low, meaning Sam and Wyatt could clear house. Sam had only just met Wyatt, and offspring of a partner or not, he wanted a sense of how trustworthy the kid was. The thief wasn't saying that Nadine was a poor judge of character per say; Drake only knew from experience that people only showed certain sides in front of certain people. Then again, given what everyone did for a living, trust wasn't exactly the currency of the realm.

 **[Pirate Or A Quitter?]**

"Believe you me, this wasn't what I had in mind."

Lungs filled with ash and whole being on the verge of collapse, her first reaction was to stop, just for a moment.

There was plenty of cover beneath the criss-crossing strings of laundry that whipped in the wind, mixing worn denim and holey socks with manufactured springtime and generic flowers. Adding cruel power to the lure of temporary respite, not even ten yards away a grouping of vents beckoned with the promise of shelter. However, pretty as that image seemed on the surface, it wouldn't fly.

Breath hitching in her chest as a particularly cold gust cut through her bones, the weather itself conspired to have its say. As if there needed to be more obstacles!

Barely up the fire escape and everything felt tilted somehow, yet she'd endured. Skirting a greenhouse full of emerald leaves and yellow sunflowers on an entirely different roof, the world was steadily drained of color. Whatever, that had been immaterial to her purpose, so the young woman carried on. Four more leaps and at least five street addresses passed that, everything was becoming increasingly difficult, however it was written off as the secret city above the normal city just sprawling further apart to separate the men from the boys. It didn't matter...

Right?

Hurdles getting increasingly more strenuous to manage, the strain was quickly becoming too taxing to carry on. Perhaps she had wasted too much time hiding from the noise of no one, or maybe this was simply how it was meant to be. All she knew through the cloud obscuring her vision was that everything hurt, that her muscles had been pushed beyond their limit and her organs could no longer keep up with the demand. But maybe it was better this way...

Gasoline sounding as good as water to cool down the fever searing all the way through to the back of her neck, the neon ads and stacked street signs in the distance flickered, but it was doubtful that the power grid was to fault. Bone brittle as uncooked pasta, somewhere in the back of her mind she recalled a line about butter being scrapped over too much bread.

"No... I... I can't."

Shiver merging seamlessly with the tremble that paralleled the last pillar supporting the spurt of adrenaline that carried her this far, Daniella stumbled as she put the vents to her back. Footing even save for the usual scattering of various debris one found on a roof, under the circumstances another slip like that could cost her dearly. Good thing she hadn't been attempting a vault, or that could have been the end right there.

Not as in her plunge to the the ground below, more like an unnecessary tumble would lead to the last of her strength breaking, which in turn became a betrayal as Jian's men caught up with her during the recovery process. Although meeting the pavement was still a possibility as well.

"There's no rest for the wicked, right?" Daniella could have sworn her father had just whispered into her ear against the bellow of the wind around her, but it must have been a memory.

"Daddy?" Even running for her own life, his was an apparition she would always welcome.

Words forming on her father's lips and coming out with no discernible sound, she almost stopped to greet him, to ask him what he was saying. Was it words of encouragement to urge her on, or was that him reaching out for her with an invitation to join him? Daniella missed him so terribly, however she knew that she had to keep running. Not that it mattered much when they would find her sooner rather than later at this rate...

Technically she was useful to Jian, but there was some doubt in her that it would be enough.

"I know I told you not to settle." It was true, her father had lectured her before about her worth. Shame it only sank in so deep. "There's better waiting."

Hands pressing on her shoulders as if they were both standing still, perhaps back home on the eve of some big event, it almost felt real. Come to think of it, it was how she'd pictured her wedding day, before her father died. No groom waiting, not even the venue clear in her mind. No, when Daniella thought about the day of her nuptials, it was always a vision taking place in her room, the bride-to-be standing in front of a floor-length mirror in her wedding dress, her father saying whatever it was that brides heard when they walked the aisle. As if a child knew!

Not quite the same as it had been in her head, pale lace whispered across her arms when she reached up to clasp for his hand. "This can't be..." veil in place and making it harder to see her surroundings, everything else felt like it had been a dream from the night before, "Can it?"

Too good to be true, if this was just a dream than it was the cruelest thing to happen to her by far. More than anything else, she wanted to hear the words. In fact she wanted it so bad it was actually hurting her to be so close to her dreams becoming a reality. Wet, tears were forming in the corners of her eyes. Mascara was probably dripping down her face, but who cared? Flesh and bone, her father wasn't just an illusion.

Not this time, not fully.

"It could be, if you want it to be." Hugging her from behind, her father chastely kissed the back of her head. Now that she was grown up and about as tall as he had been, she supposed it made sense that it was no longer the top of the crown. "We both know that if you keep going like this, your heart is going to give out. And that's only if you don't bleed out first."

...Bleed out?

"I..." Palm coming away with fresh blood when her hand curled around her abdomen after the latest landing, there was no outrunning that one. Strangely though, it was more distressing to see her father fading away than to discover that she was in such bad shape. "I thought I was a little stronger... Daddy, will you hate me if I die here?"

"Daddy?" He was gone as quick as he had come, and it felt like losing him all over again.

"Oh, Daddy..."

Vision of her white dress gone away, Daniella wasn't sure if she had been saying the words aloud or merely thinking them in her head. Tempting as her father's council had been, the heiress thought of everything that was at stake.

Where the vast fortune of her forefathers was concerned, for all she could care they could have it - private savings account a crutch for such a fate, Daniella had squirreled away enough to keep herself comfortable. Regrettably useful, having virtually all the money in the world hadn't done a thing to make her happy. It hadn't brought the dead back, nor had it given her a single real friend that came without some string or other.

Sadly the closest thing she could claim to such a bond was the present situation with Mr. Drake. Clearly friendship was far from the right term for the arrangement, but that didn't change the fact that there were real people caught up in this mess. For now it was only miss Frazer and Logan, but how much longer would it take for others to be dragged into this circus? Thanks to nothing more than her name, she was responsible for these people.

Logan, miss Frazer, even Mr. Sullivan... none of them had asked for this. The surfer she'd once admired so was far more innocent than the rest on most accounts, so his involvement was perhaps the most regrettable of all. He just wanted the chance to speak to his father, a goal that resonated deeply. Whatever else happened, she hoped that he could have at least a moment. Mr. Sullivan had been removed from her part of the game almost right away, but that didn't mean that he was any safer than the rest of them. Although being with her mother, perhaps he was. From the stories the heiress had heard tale of, Chloe had enough sense to cut out before she was dragged in deeper, but the situation was far from upfront.

Sam... Mr. Drake... He had agreed to this to be fair, but how could he have known that it would get so dicey? Daniella hadn't had the faintest idea of any of this until recently, which only served to make her angrier with her mother truth be. Because there was clearly time for it. Regardless of that pleasantness, the thief surely couldn't have known what he'd be up against, right? It sounded as if the Drakes had a nose for trouble, but this... this didn't feel right.

Daniella hoped that she could spare them from the worst, even if that meant that she only made it long enough to do one last thing with her life.

Too bad that was as likely as her father giving her away at her wedding.

"Who am I kidding?" Whimpering to herself as the pain caught up with interest, the heiress wanted nothing more than to curl up behind one of the vents and close her eyes. "I'm no bad ass."


	30. Internal Affairs: His

**\- Chapter Twenty-Seven -**

 **Internal Affairs: His**

Plan finalized and agreed upon by all parties, the group disbanded just outside the parking lot. Resource index not a very populated venue in the digital age of information, there was virtually no danger of being seen. Technically there was a custodian milling around the archives, but the tweed sweater-vest was too intimidated by their collective to be of real concern. Or perhaps the older gent was just that happy to see someone taking advantage of the vast records within. Regardless, there was no threat in being so brazen.

The first to break away, Drake was less than thrilled about getting that particular route to the station, however he had ultimately gone on his way without too much of a fuss. With Sam, Nadine expected that there would always be some kind of struggle involved when getting him to go anywhere or do anything (she could only imagine what he must have been like as a child). Having said that, she had been there in the early days of his release.

Rafe hadn't seen it, or at least he hadn't said anything to her to indicate that he had, but in those early days there had been shame in Drake's eyes. Not privy to every little thing to run through the pampered American's head - and thank the heavens for that! - the woman wouldn't pretend like she understood what Drake had gone through. Not fully at any rate. Still though, there had been a part of herself that had actually felt sorry for him. Every word spoken was raw and carried a weary edge, but below that there had been defeat. Obviously it hadn't lasted, but she would be surprised if some part of that broken creature wasn't coming back up at the prospect of entering another prison.

"Drake?" Catching the lanky treasure hunter just before he was due to vanish beneath the ground, the former mercenary offered the most comforting thing she could. "Don't die down there."

Chloe couldn't understand this part of Sam, but then again there was only a small percentage that truly could. Still, that hadn't stopped the ravenette from taking her partner's lead, "You know, unless you don't mind us collecting your share of the profits." Smile easy as ever, there was no doubt that this was a genuine parting of friends. They could call themselves whatever they wanted to, but there was no denying the bond they shared after everything they'd been through together.

Still a stranger to the thief, Wyatt hadn't had anything to say, so he didn't bother wasting his breath. Men died around him all the time, so unless it was a comrade worth mourning, to him there was no point in recognizing the last time he might see an ally alive. Not fussed to comply with even the most minimum acknowledgement, the fighter simply checked his combat knife for nicks that would need to be minded later.

Logan on the other hand was a bird of another color. Still bitter about the realization that he might never amount to more than an inconvenience that needed to be addressed every now and again, the blonde could never be rid of the half that cared about his blood. For that he cursed his heart. The sad truth was that Sam might never come around to him, but he couldn't find it in himself to just write the man off completely. He'd like to blame his age and say that there was no teaching an old dog new tricks, but the cold hard fact was that it was just who he was.

Hesitating until the last possible moment, the entire walk from the creaky wooden stairs to the cracked pavement had been filled with indecision. Being a government-founded building, one would think that the building would have presented a far more attractive front, but apparently there just wasn't a good enough reason to remember the library. Whichever, Logan was neither an avid reader nor a letter-writing voter. Speaking of approval, Sam wouldn't be for the idea running through the surfer's head, yet it was something the father-to-be felt he had to do. If he didn't, he might go crazy with the realization that he'd regret it for the rest of his days if he let the opportunity slip away.

Finally it had become too much and the surfer gave in to his instinct to embrace the other man. Sam could throw him off - and probably would - but he had to at least try. Arms tight, he caught his father by surprise and managed a rather mushy send off that made Nadine very uncomfortable with how touchy-feely it was. Try as she might, feelings just weren't her strong suit.

"Come back to your family!" The hug lasted for only a moment, but the effects were deeper than that.

 **[Mr. Too Cool For School]**

Shaken but silent as the grave, Sam slipped off from the rest of the group before any more damage could be done.

Akin to Nadine in this one instance, the lean adrenaline seeker just wan't the affectionate sort. If he so desired, the charismatic brunette could go all out with the romantic gestures and spend half the night just feeling his partner up and down. That kind of physical intimacy was as easy as breathing (and infinitely more enjoyable), but when it came to forming an emotional connection, he was much more guarded.

Cut down to its simplest shape, it just felt... well for lack of a better term, awkward when it was platonic. Barrier admitting no one, not even Nathan had been allowed to get that close. Not even after being reunited with his big brother for the first time in fifteen years. Being locked up in prison for thirteen years straight hadn't done much to help that attitude truth be told, yet it wasn't anywhere near the root of the preexisting condition.

Relieved for once to be trudging through sewage, the historian could tell that his hands were far from steady as they closed the entrance above his head and effectively killed the lights. _Damn nicotine cravings_. Turning on the flashlight at his hip, the grizzled brunette glanced at his leathery mits for only a moment before letting out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Flesh more callous than skin by this point, there were more important things to consider than his own vanity.

Whether he willed it or not, there were a number of thoughts scratching at the fortune hunter's brain, begging to be examined. How to proceed with Logan and just how dead the girl was for her little vanishing act were in the top ten, but not necessarily of the highest priority. Second on the old to-do list was finding their way out of the city when Sullivan was otherwise engaged, obtaining believable alibis and according documentation not far behind that. Papers just in case. Trimming the fat another goal of precedence, there was the matter of sleeping arrangements to mull over as well.

Thoughts attacking all at once and in no particular order, as the thief slunk through the sewer he had to wonder just how many of his current problems would see closure. Immediate or otherwise...

On his own merits, Logan had every chance of being an alright guy. In another life, the surfer could have been that guy that you laugh with about someone spilling their beer on the hot snob, the first guy on the phone when you just needed some chill. Who the hell knew? The blonde might have been the life of the party, but the way he carried on it was becoming increasingly trying to differentiate the man from his claims. And really, it was nigh impossible at this point to deny that it was pretty much a certainty.

Either way Sam looked at it, Logan was expecting too much from the thief all at once. Forget about the pressures of being on the clock and the imminent danger that might have been lurking behind every freaking corner. He was only human.

But human didn't have to mean that he was subject to failing to observe his surroundings.

Hand up to catch the low ceiling before he banged his head, Sam ducked below the first of several slimy supports. Flashlight illuminating the algae and mucus build-up gumming up the pipes, he tried not to think of the exact shades he thought he saw in the sludge. He tried even harder to not think about how much the gunk now coating his fingertips felt like raw brains wrapped in freshly harvested seaweed. Shivering at the sensation more than the clinging chill creeping up his joints, he'd have to be a real chump to miss such an obvious set-up.

Given the thoughts and questions that were mewling at the moon, really he was quite impressed with himself for crouching in time. Patting himself on the back for a job well done, the ex-con promptly missed his mark and stepped directly into the deepest part of the murky water slithering through the serpentine sewer. Reaction someplace between a groan and an eye-roll that bemoaned how typical a screw-up that was, Sam was just glad that no one else was present for that blunder.

Anyone could have made that mistake, especially while distracted and traversing in a dark tunnel. Even his little brother. In fact he probably had made that same exact foul-up, and in front of a pretty face too. From all the stories the brunette'd been caught up on, it sounded like more often than not there was someone around to impress. Sure, sure, Elena had been there during a good chunk of his little's brother's escapades, however they weren't always an item - Chloe must have seen her share of screw-ups as well. Not to mention whoever else had been between.

Come to think of it, that was probably Nathan's biggest mistake - he had to prove himself, even when he didn't actually need to. It was just in their genes to bring them in, but somehow his little brother never quite grasped the full extent of what that meant. Sam had tried to be a good bad influence and teach his younger brother how to really use it to his advantage, but so far as he was concerned there was a lot of wasted potential there. But whatever, Nathan had Elena now - and Cassie - so clearly it was good enough for him.

And speaking of being satisfied...

Pampered Princess she, Dells would probably demand a suite to herself; after seeing evidence of what her captors were capable of, that condition was only fair. Trouble was, as much as the treasure seeker was all for them keeping their space, such grander would be twice as likely to draw attention. It wasn't as if she exactly had the funds available to cover that kind of comfort anyways. Although to her credit, she'd done well enough slumming it this past while.

Gift of foresight not quite in Samuel's repertoire, he was shrewd enough to glean that the heiress could still find a way to earn her keep. Victor not the only underground tradesman in the world, Sam knew a few guys that could easily move a person or two discreetly, but there was one in particular that was worth the extra hassle.

Heather Norris was a work buddy of Elena's from years ago, however stepping around the line was how she got her kicks. Technically employed as a foreign correspondent, helping people out was what she did as a trade and for the sure pleasure of it. However, convincing her to lend a hand wasn't going to be straight-forward; certain incidents with her sister and a fire had occurred, so suffice it to say that things hadn't exactly ended well the last time they had seen each other...

If by some miracle she agreed - assuming that they could even get in touch - then there was a very real possibility that the thief and the heiress could wind up with a decent start. Win-win, if Heather took to the bait- err, girl, they could probably even end up with a nice little set-up someplace between the lofty standards of an Adler and low-key enough to keep from drawing too much attention. Daniella might protest in the beginning, but once she'd tasted everything Heather could offer, he was confident that she would come around.

More than just an idea hastily scribbled on a meaningless piece of paper, Samuel could just imagine Daniella surrounded by the blue waters of the Côte d'Azur. Too good to call it the French Riviera like everyone else (at least Rafe had been), he pictured Dells in a little pink bikini that was more string than coverage, all skin in the sand.

Drink in hand as she tried to not eat the dark hair the breeze kept blowing into her mouth, somehow not everything would have been going against her for a change. Alone on this section of the beach, she might have had the sense to carry a shawl to cover up from the undeserving gazes of the plebes, but the look in her eyes as she sipped down something fruity screamed that she had other things on her mind than protection...

Danger and desire devouring the light in her gaze, it was written all over her face as she took the lemon from the rim of her glass and pinched the juice down her chest. Trailing the bright yellow sliver between her collarbone and over the upper curve of her breasts, she signaled that it was time for more than body shots. And who would he be to refuse the lady?

Casually comfortable with just plucking some egg out of an arguably intimate place within the first twenty-four hours they had met, it shouldn't have come as much of a surprise that the lemon had caught on the flimsy support keeping everything in place and just out of sight. But unlike that time, she was obviously expecting it.

Gentle as the waves that lapped her ankles, he could almost hear her calling his name.

It sounded just like Rafe...

Speaking of the dynasty that was the closest thing there was to American royalty, that brought him to the crux of it all.

Initially the gig sounded innocent enough, a bit on the easy side perhaps, but nothing to second-guess. Take some brat in, babysit for a short while while everything was sorted out, no problem. He could handle that in his sleep! Then with a single knock on the door, everything had fallen to shit and took the hand basket express to hell. Shockingly enough, this time the knock on the door that he had been referring to had nothing whatsoever to do with Logan.

Rethinking his hurry to accept and sign the dotted line, too much had been invested now to go back. Neighbors had been ruffled by their sudden exit, kids had been threatened (and in one case vengeance had been tasted), and he'd spent too many hours playing nurse. Alright, so maybe only that last point meant anything, but that didn't change the facts. Comfort and compassion were things Sam only had so much of to give away, and so far as he was concerned he had done his time back when Nathan had been a kid.

With everything that had happened thus far, it was next to impossible to imagine a world where she would be fine. Orphaned one moment and held hostage the next, on top of being on the klutzy side Dells had proven herself to be a magnet for trouble. Frankly, from where he was sitting it was nothing short of a miracle that she had lasted this long. But somehow she had, so by that same logic she should have been able to get along once he was out of the picture... Right?

More than a pretty penny on the line, in the back of his mind Sam wondered if it would be so easy to just walk away once the job had been completed. To be fair they hadn't really had a proper conversation in all the time they've been stuck together, so it wasn't like he was invested on that kind of level - it was just that it was kind of like helping out a stray.

Cute little pup takes you in with a wide-eyed glance, eventually wearing you down enough to feed it half of your sandwich. Somehow one time only becomes a pattern, and though you don't take the dog in, there's a feeling of responsibility and care. Little thing could survive on its own, but not without a little extra help.

This was him feeding that stray, protecting it from some asshole kids that think it would be funny to torment the pup for kicks.

Yikes. If Bai knew that he had just compared her beloved daughter to a dog, his head would roll; Sam didn't want to think about what might come up missing if the businesswoman suspected what else he had been thinking about the heiress. _What would Rafe have thought?_ Situation summed up with a canine analogy or no, bringing up Bai was exactly the kick he needed to honestly lay the possibilities down.

Say for example that her mother altered the arrangement and the goons were called off. Magically peace on earth became a reality, and all that office drama had been resolved, leaving nothing more to be done. If he could say that Dells would be fine, if he truly felt like there was no other danger to the young woman, could he just walk away with the money?

Obviously. Although stalling that long to answer the inevitable did beg the question of if he were to stick around just long enough to make sure everything was in order, what exactly did he think could be in it for him? Would it be because he had seen the girl in such a fragile state that it wouldn't be right to turn his back? Saving her right now was exactly what he was getting paid to do, but what would she be to him beyond this paycheck? Had Nadine been on to something?

What precisely was the driving force behind his interest in Daniella? Beyond the money and the physical, was there any? Did he only keep fighting himself because this was Rafe's little girl? It shouldn't have meant anything to him whose daughter she was, and yet...

It was oddly hard to separate the two from one another.

Haunted by how close he had come to failing in his mission when Dells had nearly drowned in the pool before the ink had dried on the contract, Sam could still see her feeble first breaths. Hardly even trying, even now as trudged through the maze of tunnels and shit he could see it all vividly.

Weak from blood loss and taxed by the stress of thinking she had lost everything she'd ever known, the treasure hunter figured that it would have been easy to just let go. Instead the young woman fought it and had managed to answer his silent prayer, stirring just enough to leave him with the simplest of signs. Sure he could take the credit for saving her back there, but the truth wasn't that black and white. It never was with an Adler, was it?

Fading out not long after - as Sleeping Beauty did - if he closed his eyes long enough he could conjure the mental picture of just how delicate and helpless she had been when he'd set her down on the side of the water. Skin paler than snow and hair a wet tangle of tar, for once it hadn't been lust that had drawn his eyes to the chest area. An eternity longer than just the initial rescue, if he were to let himself, Sam could have even felt more than the hectic panic that had pounded through his chest during her transportation to the safe house and the emergency patch job. Rafe had never required that kind of saving in their time together, but he hadn't been without his moments of vulnerability.

 _Maybe..._ Musing to himself as he took the left that would ultimately lead him under a post office down the block from the station, Drake recalled the moment when Chloe had taken the group photo.

Dells hadn't wanted the photo op, and looking at her, he could understand why: half her face was still in bandages, the color was just returning to her cheeks, and due to the stitches on her scalp, her espresso locks hadn't been brushed in a week. Judging her based on her last name as much as for what she had been wearing when she came knocking on his door, he expected that it was all a vanity thing. And then when everyone had been arranged and the timer set, she'd turned away from the camera as best she could.

Hesitation the cause for tension in her frame, though she had only held her breath until the picture had been taken, he was fairly certain that the cheek burying itself against his shoulder was only a means of escaping from the lens. That had to be the case, given that the way she twisted only brought focus to her injuries.

In hindsight that had all been for the best, but there was no knowing that then.

Feeling more than her reluctance and relief as they grouped together, as her athletic build shied away from the camera by curling into the thief, attributes that might have gone unnoticed otherwise had been highlighted. Overall the height and proportions were a bit off, but time had stolen enough that it was a close enough mold to liken father and daughter. If the multi-billionaire had had a little something-something up front. And he did mean little _._

As if that one instant hadn't been bad enough, the proximity had afforded Sam the time to not only get a sense of what was going on under the hood, it had also given him the opportunity to peg what he had thought smelled so familiar about the young woman. Scented soaps and perfumes unheard of luxuries in the safe house, it became apparent that Daniella had the same natural scent that Rafe had... well, when he wasn't reeking of jungle and desperation that is.

Possibilities and outcomes galore shifting through his mind to take new form with every fact and memory he reviewed, Sam couldn't leave that many loose threads just hanging. Eventually they'd be dealt with as time went on, sure, but he needed to know just how far he was willing to go for the Adler name. Daddy had almost cost him his brother and his life, and yet here he was all these years later, jumping into the fire...

Money was the easy answer - God knows how many zeros he could add to the bill by the time this was all said and done - but even with Rafe it hadn't been the sole factor. Daniella had something about her that was keeping the fortune finder on the fence about letting the door hit him on the ass on the way out, and he wasn't so sure that it was the same as it had been with her father. There was an innocence to the girl, something exploitable as it was sweet. Sweet wasn't a word found often in Samuel's vocabulary, however that didn't mean it was something to be shunned, or even abused for that matter.

Again, there was that desire to protect her from all the evils in the world. Pitiful creature taken in from the rain, he'd seen so much of the boy his brother had been when they'd played everything straight, way back when he'd been in the care of the orphanage. Pure light, there was a spark of genuine goodness in an otherwise shitty world, a frail fire that was under the constant threat of being extinguished.

Daniella was one such rarity, but even if he could manage to keep all the other ills of the outside at bay, what was protecting her from him?

A doe-eyed butterfly at first glance, originally the world-weary historian had wondered if it had been an act to take him in. Sam would have been a complete idiot to just take a stranger at their word, but here they were. All the same, somehow he didn't see the young woman as capable of being that good of an actress.

Frankly he hadn't been sold on her ability to do much of anything yet. Yeah, there had been little moments that had surprised him, but if he were to be completely and brutally honest about this whole situation, the ex-con would put money on her crumbling at the first bit of pressure her kidnappers would apply. Little thing would comply and probably cry her little eyes out, doing everything she could to make it easier on her little self. He supposed she couldn't really be blamed for that, especially when she'd had it so easy all her life, but it still made him sick to think about.

For how scared he was about her wellbeing, he had the feeling that they'd find her living it up with her captor, clean and in one piece. Hell, she'd probably be in better condition than any given point of time that she had been in his care.

Thinking of it like that, what was he even worried for? Once they'd brought her back to their side, between being annoyed that she had been shown the royal treatment and whatever paltry conversation they managed to strike up, all would be right with the world. Well, he wouldn't be interested in sleeping with the beauty just because of her linage anymore after the ordeal had played itself out.

...

Probably.


	31. Eyes, Spies, Confidence, And Keys

**\- Chapter Twenty-Eight -**

 **Eye Spy With My Little I/Confidence Is Key**

"Man, these jobs are the worst." Conversing casually in Mandarin with a similarly suited peer, a millennial with a studded nose ring sighed into his cigarette. He probably should consider quitting, but eh. "I say either just do away with this arranged marriage business or just tranq the bride-to-be. Sort it out as man and wife if you're feeling generous, or otherwise just leave her to sort herself. The rest of us shouldn't have to suffer for one cunt's entitlement."

Exhaling a puff of her own, a sharply dressed chauffeur leaned back against the building thoughtfully. Just glad to be on break so that they didn't have to run the risk of being put under the psycho in charge of the hunting party, she shrugged against the scratchy surface. "I'm more annoyed that Jian won't let us smoke indoors. Who the hell cares about safety hazards? It's fucking cold!" Rubbing her hands together, she glanced over at the door resting perpetually upon its prop, "I hope his mole hears that!"

Jian seemed to either not know that his superiors had placed a nark within his ranks, or he simply didn't care, because so far as either of the two knew, nothing was being done to suss out the unloyal party. In fact, it was such a non-issue for the boss that his underlings would frequently joke about the mystery person bluntly and in the open. Certain members would treat the topic a hair more seriously, although they too would ultimately laugh about it as more of a judging bogeyman type figure than treat it as a genuine concern. As the most important of the U.S. chapters, their branch had a good thing going, so who would have been foolish enough to ruin it?

"But... you aren't wrong." Relationship evolved beyond simple ribbing, just the thought of agreeing with her companion was usually enough to quiet wagging tongues. He probably could have said the same for her. "Zhihao's granddaughter or not, this is too much trouble - I'd say just let the bitch go to her lover and kill them both in retribution. Maybe in the mainland her name means something, but here it just doesn't carry the same kind of weight. Am I wrong?"

"Hmm." Biting back his own pride to admit that his comrade wasn't far off the mark so far as he was concerned, nose ring merely nodded.

Grade-school antics through and through, the woman made kissing noises and laughed. "Whichever she goes for in the end, Jian could do better." Truthfully he'd forgotten just how much he loathed the sound of her mirth. But who wouldn't?! It was an irritating noise, like a stuck pig being grated alive by old sandpaper.

Unperturbed by the face being made at her juvenile act (which was more than fitting given how young the boss's little hussy was), the professional driver frowned at the glorified kitchen boy all the same. He was such a bummer! Really it was a good thing that they rarely had to interact outside of the odd work hour. "You can't tell me you'd be so quick to make face-time with the little mongrel, after what Angel and Ashley did."

 _And there it is._

Commonplace as the adoration of the butchers was, he still rolled his eyes. There might have been a time when he thought that his co-worker was above being another sheep among the flock, but it had passed long ago. Both of the killers-for-hire were outsiders with not a drop of Asian decent in their blood, yet somehow or other the majority had come to overlook that tiny fact. Worse, the pair had even received a pass on that count in most courts.

But they hadn't pulled the wool over his eyes. "I'm no hypocrite. And if they were so great at their jobs, the boss's fiancée never would have escaped in the first place. There may be a brutal artistry to what they've done, but them even finding her in the first place was luck. Blind luck. You throw out enough nets, and you're bound to catch a fish. So before you bow before your false idols, remember for a moment that that could have been anybody. You, me, that half-blind bum off of 5th. Anyone."

Sensing the anger that was brewing at him applying simple logic, nose ring addressed his point before she could squawk, "Angel and Ashley might be the best there is at dismembering, but there are plenty other guys out there that could track the bitch."

Indignant on behalf of heroes that she had never even spoken to, the woman scoffed, "What, like you?" Tracking and being blessed enough to actually apprehend were two entirely different things. "Please, it took you two months to be able to find your way to work without a neon arrow."

Of course he'd never be able to live that one down; not everyone was as gifted behind the wheel as the former stunt driver. While it would have made sense to point out as much, instead he remained silent and sulked to himself. Purposefully glancing away to gaze at the colors collecting in the granite-hued dish on the ceiling, neither had noticed the shadows moving beneath their feet.

Flicking ash into the air like dead leaves in a strong current, he opened his mouth to say something, however no words came out. In a flash something thin and silver wrapped around his neck, the metal string cutting the words off unexpectedly, leaving that final train of thought a mystery. Instead of what could have been the speech of a lifetime, all that spilled from his lips was a ghastly mixing of gargled noises and primal static.

Assuming that the asshole was only trying to screw with her - as he'd done so many times in the past - the chauffeur didn't give the strangled gasp a second thought.

Until the blood came out. Fresh, scarlet, and warm enough to steam the air, the carmine line on her old friend's neck was the last thing the woman saw...

 **[Silhouette of a Soldier]**

Stealth incarnate with his weapon of choice at the ready, the soldier signaled for his own companion to stop short as they came underneath their targets. So far as he could tell from his vantage point, there were only two shadows standing overhead. Noise somewhat deceptive in the wind, from the sounds of them the pair was too engrossed in their own thing to be any wiser of the infiltration.

Though older and arguably the more experienced of the duo, the military-trained adventurer had allowed him to take the lead on this one. Perhaps her motivation came from a place of guilt, or maybe it was as simple as professional courtesy. Either way, the merc-turned-treasure seeker paused at his nonverbal command and awaited further instruction. Or to phrase it in another way to cushion the ego, opinion.

Indicating the wear and tear surrounding the frames uniformly set into the structure, he pointed at himself and then upwards. Gesturing to Nadine, he permitted her to resume taking the fire escape.

Understanding what he meant without a problem, the former mercenary inclined her head. From the sounds of it she'd scaled her fair share of vertical obstacles in the past, so this was nothing for her to fret over. Really the only risk that came from falling here was a broken bone or two and the alarm being raised. Miracle machine that it was, the human body would mend over time - assuming that he had lived long enough to see another day - but being discovered could have entailed more than a sudden death. So far he's been lucky in that regard, but luck was not something he cared to rely upon more than he could help it.

Verifying that the handholds eroded into the wall would support his weight, he was off to do whatever it took to gain entry.

Willing to shed blood for his objective (whatever it may have been at the time), the soldier confirmed that there were in fact only a couple of goons to clear out once he was in a position to do so. Fingertips dusted by loose rubble and chalk, Wyatt hadn't even noticed that he had torn up his calloused hands while shimmying over to the platform above the poor man's balcony. Nary a complaint uttered, the young man dropped on his back and squirmed beneath the shoddy railing until his torso was one with the iron-like platform.

The view was nice, but he had grimmer things on his mind than the sunset.

Extending his arm so that he could uncoil the wire he used for such operations, he made sure once more that his knees were hooked around the flimsy edge to keep from plummeting to his death. More than one decent soldier worth their salt had been lost to a lack of proper preparation, including one he had called a friend.

Quick as a flicker and at least twice as silent, the soldier made short work of the one with the nose ring.

The last person to distinguish gender on the field, he watched his partner with a newfound appreciation. Nadine Ross had earned a name for herself and had maintained it all these long years, even after the change in profession, but it was something else entirely to see the woman at work firsthand. Having cleared the way for his partner to strike, his mother had unequivocally proven once more what he had already known when she grabbed the woman by the ankles.

Jerking motion coming the same exact instant that her co-worker had perished, the suited female had hit the ground with such force that she was out immediately.

But he wasn't about to take any chances of being detected, especially prematurely. Tucking mid-decent into a neat flip, Wyatt dropped down with the grace of a feline. Blade drawn and intent transparent for all to see, the soldier took his blade and drew it across her neck for good measure. _Now the pair could bicker in hell, similar smiles etched into their throats._

Wordlessly the young fighter nodded at the door. So far as he had been concerned, Nadine Ross was the absolute last person in the world that needed to be protected (and genetics had little to do with that feeling). Striking formation was immaterial in truth, however they were the type of people that liked at least some order where it could be found. Ironic, all things considered.

Eyes keen as they ever had been, she could count how many guys were coming and divvy them up accordingly. Presumably the hallway would be empty (or close enough to) if there had only been two employees taking their break at once, but there was no way to be sure. No matter - she had this.

Poised for a fight that could spring at any minute, just as the battle-hardened veteran headed for the door to peer inside, a third warm-up appeared to block the path. Taller than the other two by at least a good head, the standard-issued wall of bulk and padding stomped heedlessly into the picture. Balding and inked so intensively that there was barely any room left upon the natural canvas, the least generic thing about this new obstacle was the slicked-back braid dangling over his shoulder.

Left with no time at all to strategize, she used the few milliseconds at her disposal to take advantage of the element of surprise.

French fries and milkshakes slowing down the slob's reaction time, the apparent lack of vitamin A did nothing to assist the brute's night vision. Gleaning the same weakness, the former mercenary dropped her crouched position by the side door and stood at her full height to take on the big guy. The difference in height was considerable, but she would not be cowed.

Prepared for this as much as anyone could be, the lithe jungle cat pounced upon the unsuspecting warthog, claws aimed at the jugular. There wasn't a lot of neck there to throttle, however there was enough to buy her teammate some time. Arms snaking around the meaty stump, the former mercenary jerked her head towards the entrance and grunted with the effort of subduing the the giant, muscles put to the test almost instantly. "Go!"

Without any hesitation whatsoever, Wyatt obeyed the command. This wasn't nearly as seamless an infiltration as they'd planned, however they were all versed in the risks. Even the civilian had been clued in that this wouldn't be a cakewalk - somewhat admirable, the blonde man hadn't been deterred. Yet it remained to be seen how long that foolish courage would see him through.

Honoring his mother's wish, the young man slipped through the door before the struggle escalated and raised any red flags.

If the blueprints were still any shade of accurate, the rooms up ahead were empty cells for interrogation. Branching at regular intervals, offices would be left and right, the meeting point interrupted by a pair of lifts at the far end. Frankly the accuracy of the information was highly doubtful since the lease had changed hands, however it was better than going in completely blind.

Resuming the trail, he kept close to the wall.

Opting for the left-hand route, he marked his path with a bloody print, the scarlet ink coming courtesy of nose-ring. Placement not quite subtle, he was in too great a rush to consider leaving a better mark that could distinguish his path. Besides, it would be a waste to not make some kind of use of his fresh kill.

"And now we begin." With any kind of luck, he'd be the first one to the Adler girl...

 **[Someplace In Or Near Chinese Waters]**

Floor anything but steady as the waves rocked the seaplane, Bai clutched the edge of her seat so hard that her knuckles had gone white.

Hidden away in a cozy little alcove, there was a slim possibility of being seen from the cliffs above, however the businesswoman had insisted that the odds of being discovered increased tenfold by stepping on dry land. Obviously not every single person could identify her by sight, however she wasn't about to take that gamble, even for a moment. Victor had been sorely tempted to call her out for that kind of ego, however he'd gotten quite an earful already.

 _Think I'll leave poking the bear to the boys._

In a gentlemanly gesture, Sullivan had offered to move the operation inland when he first noticed how pale the woman had gotten during the voyage, however she shot the idea down in flames. Though he had a tougher skin than to mind all of what she had said, it was all rather rude and overtly threatening. And that was only the bits he had understood. Forming a much clearer understanding of the businesswoman and her motives, there was no mistaking what they were there for. Hell, he'd be willing to risk the same in her position - except that was hardly an excuse to bite his head off.

"Yahui should be calling any minute now." One of the few redeeming qualities about the criminal was his punctuality. Having spied on over a couple hundred conversations by this point, Victor could honestly say that he wasn't much of a fan otherwise. His companion on the other hand... Well, her opinion shouldn't have come as much of a surprise given the kind of man that took her fancy. "The question is if Jian will answer this time."

Bai had only met Jian once that she could recall, and he had been a small child then. Come to think of it, that might not even have been him that she was thinking about it was so long ago... Regardless, the boy had already ignored the last two calls, so he wouldn't dare miss this one. "He'll answer. His position depends on it."

Sully wasn't as convinced, yet he kept that to himself. If there was one thing he could say about this experience, it was that the woman wasn't particularly keen on hearing things that clashed with her vision.

 **[The Call]**

Daniella Adler... In another life she might have had quite the future running her late father's empire.

Annoyed one word for it, he was more irritated by his best men not doing more to break his potential bride-to-be's spirit than he was impressed with her little stunt. Icy outside but a smoldering inferno within, if it had been anyone else that kind of initiative would have netted both a job and a position on the shortlist for the next available promotion. As it were, that thoughtless display of moxy landed little more than a few points of respect.

Hired in large part to prevent attempts at future bravery, Angel and Ashley both ought to have done better. Granted they hadn't had the biggest window of time to work their magic, for what they were being paid he should have seen better results.

But maybe they weren't fully to blame...

Compiling every last shred of data that could be dug up before the impending nuptials, any fool with eyes to see could gather that there was incentive for young miss Adler to play hard to get. First and foremost, it was just in her blood to fight, even if she didn't realize it. However that seemed too convenient an answer, so Jian only put so much stock into that theory. He'd dealt with all kinds, so for him it wasn't so far-fetched to put his money on a simpler explanation: anatomy. Considering her age and background, there was no better reason.

Facts all pointing to something mature and untoward between the heiress and one of her former educators, dating was a strong term for the affair. _Shame, shame_ , it would appear that the young lady wasn't quite as pure as her mother would like to pretend she was. As all mothers longed to believe their child was. Although with his own record, who was he to judge? Despite there being something to say for having a partner with some experience, it wasn't whatever teacher and student shared that had him concerned.

No doubt hired by the defiled defector to keep her little girl out of the worst of it while she worked her magic off screen, the explorer was a known figure, even among the Orange Tiger. Somehow they hadn't really crossed paths before, but the name was still a familiar one.

Question was, what precisely was the extent of that situation?

Rafe, Shun, even good old Keats to some degree, it seemed that every man the girl came to care about all ended up rather dead. Surviving that many dead father-figures was a recipe for disaster - oh, wait, too late. Princess had already hit that check mark on the list of common 'daddy issues' bingo. Engaging with her professor the way that she had, it really wasn't much of a stretch of the imagination to believe that certain lines had been blurred with her newest guardian.

Unsure how much credit to give his young bride-to-be, Jian didn't rule out that the heiress and the thief had kept things strictly professional. _But what fun was there in that?_ While it was a possibility, the evidence all pointed to the contrary, so in his mind the suspicion alone was enough to paint the colors of her guilt. Forget that the scoundrel had a certain kind of reputation...

Damned if she did and damned if she didn't, miss Adler was trouble. Lucky for her, he liked a bit of trouble.

Bracing for the biting winds that were expected to pick up into the night, the young crime lord slid his hand first into one leather driving glove and then another. Honestly if he were to be completely honest with himself, Jian had to admit that he didn't hate the idea of his fiancé. Not completely at any rate. Marriage in general simply wasn't an appealing notion, and he doubted that at the end of the day they could spin some fairytale ending for one another, but at least she wouldn't bore him from the get.

Armed with the power to make almost any and everything a reality, if the promising gang leader desired something (or someone) badly enough, he would make it happen. Jumping out of a two-story window left no doubt in his mind that the young woman was just as resolved as he was. Determination could be a deadly thing, but in this case... Well...

Boss of an entire city branch and confident in his position, as he left the interrogation chamber Jian glanced around the abandoned vestibule.

Free to do as they pleased on their own time, on a normal night it wasn't uncommon to find men and woman milling around to make plans with one another. As to that, he could care less. Off hours were off hours so far as he was concerned, so the peons could relax and take a moment for themselves. As a gang obviously they were beholden to answer his call whenever it might come, but he considered himself to be fair on that count.

Except tonight wasn't an average night, was it?

Immediately sending all available units to comb for the runaway, those that hadn't been deployed were in the lounge downstairs. Not a resource going to waste, they were prepping to bring her back in the event that the first wave failed. Drake would inevitably be coming to collect the girl at some point, so a team had been dispatched to entertain him as well. There were a few known associates that the rogue might call to aid in the rescue, however with the circumstances being what they were, Jian wasn't anticipating a huge team. Greed was quite the force to be reckoned with, it turned out.

Name not unknown to them, Chloe Frazer would doubtlessly be among the effort; after all, she'd been with the heiress at the time of abduction. Nadine Ross had strong ties to the pair, and a distant connection to the hostage as well, however reports had her out of the country. And anyways her involvement wasn't a guaranteed thing. Beyond that, it was anyone's guess as to who would even hear of this little adventure. The best tactician's could theorize until they were blue in the face, however nothing was certain at this stage.

"Remind me to pay a visit to the hospital." Speaking to his phone while lingering at a cross-roads, the AI made a memo for a later date. Such a useful technology, he could hardly imagine a life without it. No, seriously.

Strolling down the hall at a leisurely pace, the young man surveyed his surroundings with bored interest. There was a new app on his phone just begging to be tested, however that would have to wait until he was in the car. What was some writing on the wall to him when he had a pressing engagement?

 _And speaking of engagements..._

Phone still in hand, the electric vibrations went off to demand his hourly progress report. If indeed they were hourly. Between his meeting with Daniella and her subsequent escape, there really hadn't been all that much to say to his so-called superiors. More specifically there wasn't much he could add, however it would have been unwise to ignore yet another call. Call him sentimental for it, but he was rather attached to everything where it was.

"Wèi?"

Reality what it was, Yahui sounded less than thrilled that his previous calls had gone completely ignored. Predictable much? Shoe on the other foot, Jian supposed that he also would have been more than a trifle miffed, however had he been in the other man's place, the sap a wrung below wouldn't have had such a short leash. Really, was it so difficult to remember that to climb a ladder it required climbing above one level to reach the next? Surely management wasn't old enough to forget that greatness just needed a chance to prove itself.

Voice more of a growl than anything decidedly human, the return greeting was anything but cordial. "You may have been chosen for the honor of marrying the honored granddaughter, however that does not automatically mean you share her importance. As my own family, I must caution that you test your boundaries too fine. As per my orders from above, if you don't get the girl back, it could be your last mistake."

Jian struggled to keep his backtalk to a minimum. A feat worthy of the Olympics, dealing with the old stick in the mud was more hassle than it was worth, however at the end of the day said stick was kin, so a bullet and a note home just wouldn't do. Besides, the next guy to take the position could always be worse. "So I see you have been updated after all." The ensuing eye-roll was just as audible as if he'd voiced his lack of patience aloud. "While I must compliment your agent's work, I don't see why you need to cling to my back-"

Had the conversation not taken place over two different continents, that insolence would have been the ideal cue for the blood-curdling stare that had broken lesser men. "Someone needs to keep you in check. As leader, it is your responsibility to-"

"I know my responsibilities, thank you for the concern." Perturbed that it had taken all of nine seconds to play the duty card, Yahui wasn't the only one that could carry an edge in his tone. Cut-for-cut, the younger man knew every speech by heart and could even recite a number of them in flawless English. "I know what I'm doing, believe it or not. For what I don't know, the most intelligent of my men are downstairs tempering the steel so that we are always ready to strike."

Impressed by the surge of confidence in the boy's voice, Yahui was sorely tempted to believe the boast. As the future of their family, the elder generation only grilled the child so that he might elevate the line in his own right and have a son worthy of inheriting the title someday. Assuming of course that the honored granddaughter was anywhere near as fertile as her mother had been.

Little more than a boy at play in his eyes, the time was fast approaching for Jian to become an adult. "Big words. I suppose that the only thing that really matters is the end result. Very well, if you prove yourself I just might become less inclined to call you so frequently to make sure you're doing your job."

Scorn and mockery not always immediately discernible in the old man's voice, Jian chose to see this as the first steps of real trust. Just the opportunity he'd been waiting for, if he were actually ambitious. Sometimes playing the part of leader got to his head, but at the end of the day he didn't want anything to change. Daniella was the key, however she hadn't exactly warmed up to his alpha persona.

Refusing to break character, Jian callously shrugged. "Soon enough that burden will fall on my wife's shoulders." Not to mention a good many things besides. "It is my sincerest wish that the next time I speak with you is also the last - at my wedding."

Yahui truly wished that that might be possible, both as a go-between with better things to do with his time than babysit and as a kinsman. Not that he would show enough of his heart to let anyone think as much. "To your honeymoon."


	32. Silent Honey and the Roaring Moon

**\- Chapter Twenty-Nine -**

 **Silent Honey and the Roaring Moon**

 **[Vegas, Several years ago]**

Sunlight glinting off the tint of the window, the Nevada sands stirred restlessly against the side of the idling limousine. Luxury and splendor a part of everyday life, the pair seated in the back were no more taken by the sights than the driver. Technically speaking the duo were in town to meet with the first of two long-time associates about a merger between some of the lesser outfits, however there was no rush. Cards, fools, and broken hearts were a mobile arrangement, so even the usual adult fun offered on the strip was only so enticing. This trip was special.

Or it would be, once Bai got around to breaking her news to Rafe. For about a week there had been little clues, each leading to the bigger picture if one cared to look (it would seem that he had not, but she wasn't deterred).

"Mr. Zunii is a very busy man, I understand that." On the phone with the secretary of their man since the plane, the businesswoman was running out of ways to deliver the same message. Honestly she was sorely tempted to just hang up then and there, except that would have been quite rude, and the old man was exceedingly prideful. Hence why Rafe had to be dragged back to the States. "I did as I promised, I managed to convince Mr. Adler to show up. Now it's up to your boss to hear our deal at the meeting."

Perhaps the impertinence was simple jealousy at the fact that a 'glorified secretary' was living out one of the ultimate fantasies - that was the case with most people - but Bai had picked up during the course of the call that the disdain went deeper than that. A story as old as her career with the Adler family, she wasn't going to be bothered by one little insect. Unless things went less than ideally... In that case Bai knew exactly who to track down.

Bored by the business quite easily, Rafe had gone from drinking the complimentary champaign in the fine stemware to watching his former assistant through the amber liquid. Glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose, that serious look on her face she got whenever work was involved, entire body tense from the flight. Anyone else would have been intimidated by how tightly the stress had her wound, but not him; smirking to himself, the multibillionaire thrilled at the thought of inevitably releasing everything she had pent-up.

Originally he hadn't planned on paying his companion much attention when there were a number of pretty little things just waiting to be explored for a quick buck, yet there they were. Against her own self-interest, in addition to a job well done, Bai had been patient and was due another bone. A raise was typically the traditional answer to an impressive quarter, however as acting boss there really wasn't a limit on what she could be taking home (not that he'd tell her that in so many words).

And it was more convenient than having to wait for someone suitable to just stumble into the picture. So until then...

End button looking more and more appealing by the second, Bai waited while the receptionist jotted something down. Muttering to herself in Mandarin - a habit that seldom reared its head when she was alone or dealing with sensible individuals - the bespectacled beauty reached for her first sip of champagne.

Anticipating her movements - waiting for the opportunity even - Rafe grabbed her hand. Palm covering the tops of her knuckles, thumb brushing the hard knots of her wrist, he kneaded the soft flesh as he guided her hand away from the glass. Met with more surprise than resistance from his star employee, so far as the icy-eyed boss was concerned there were better places for her touch.

Still firmly in work mode, Bai was more business than woman in that moment and pulled her hand back. Rafe may have signed the checks that kept a roof over her head, but at the end of the day she was her own master. "Seven? No, our invitation said eight-thirty. Check it again if you don't believe me."

Refusals and taking orders two beasts of a similar nature for the billionaire, he cocked his head at his companion incredulously. _Fine_ , the gears in his brain began to piece together a suitable comeback as he leaned back in his seat, _if that was the way she wanted it to be, two could play at that game_. Taste of the liquor losing something as he emptied his glass, Rafe leered at the woman; a distraction would have been nice, however it hadn't been a serious notion. In other words, he was fine with just keeping to himself for the remainder of the ride, but he was not okay with her telling him no.

Since the earliest days of their relationship he had respected the few boundaries that had been set, on the condition that she do the same. If for whatever reason the woman had gotten it into her head that there was something more between them than sex and taxes, that was on her. Or at least that had been his attitude going in...

Lately though, it wasn't as clear-cut as it had been back then. Strung out on a particularly bad batch a few weekends back, he had been the one to pick her up out of the gutter; somehow that seemed wrong to him, like it should have been the other way around. The rescuing bit. Except, in some ways it was... Adamant about staying on-site after the discovery of a sunken wing, it had been Bai that had remained by his side to dust off the artifacts. Unable to rest due to the shrinking sense of excitement that every hour became dread at uncovering yet another dead end, it had been Bai that had cradled his head in her lap, and it had been her herbal honey recipe that had done the trick to close his eyes.

As his caretaker it was a small little thing that didn't bear thinking about, yet every time he thought about blowing her off it was the first thing that sprang into his mind. Not freedom, not laughter.

He hated her for that.

Oblivious as ever as to what was going on in her lover's head, she had to turn her body as far away from her companion as she possibly could. "You don't say? I'll definitely be bringing this to Mr. Zunii's attention at the meeting." What was said next struck a raw nerve. "I'm not just a pretty face, I earned my place at that table. Do yourself a favor and look up a little company called ' _White Mother Dragon_ '. Maybe then you'll think twice about judging others for things you know nothing about!" Bai could feel eyes on her back at the outburst, so she pretended to become interested in the twinkling lights passing them by. On several levels that was exponentially more taxing than it ought to have been. "Now if you'll excuse me, we've just arrived at the hotel."

They hadn't even gotten close to the monster megaplex on the far outskirts of the city, but that didn't prevent the woman from hanging up. Infantile as it may have made her seem, nothing prevented her from chucking the smart phone to the floor with a loud cracking noise that could only mean one thing. Good thing she had learned to carry a back-up (and a back-up for the back-up) for incidents such as these.

Lips quirking behind her back, it was almost too easy. "The nerve of some people."

Cheeks flushed a special shade of scarlet that just so happened to look really good with her plum lipstick, everything else was forgotten in order to vent. "Thank you! My company isn't quite as notable as the stuff I do in the Adler name, but it's really starting to come into its own! By next year I might even get an article in Forbes or the Times. Or something...!" Trailing off at the questionable fate of her investment, Bai focused instead on the other key difference between herself and everyone else. "It's more than any of these little toads can say!"

Bait as good as taken, Rafe was sorely tempted to allow the situation to carry out all the way to the hotel, but that would mean having to endure Christ knows how much more out of her mouth. Cramming twelve hours worth of ranting in fifteen second bursts was by far one of her most irksome abilities. "Well they aren't wrong, are they?"

Stunned, the look on Bai's face was priceless. But still not enough...

"Technically you _did_ earn the job on your own merits, but come on Bai. You can't deny that I wasn't getting you off the entire time-"

Impact stinging her hand more than it stung his cheek, the woman slapped him square in the face. Admittedly there was more hurt than venom in the gesture, however he didn't need to know that. "How dare you! How dare you!" Repeating herself to punctuate each word with an acidic hiss, the bottle of bubbly between them was looking like a pretty good weapon at that moment. "You know I worked my ass off to get my MBA!"

Seized by a sudden madness - or maybe the single moment of clarity that existed within a sea of insanity - Bai wrenched the car door open. No time for second guesses, asking the driver to pull over, and most importantly no window for Rafe to stop her. Throwing herself from the vehicle the businesswoman was met almost immediately by the pavement. Thankfully seated on the side nearest the block, there was no black asphalt river to fight, only sidewalk.

Wishing that luck hadn't been so kind this once, stomaching one more moment in the car with Rafe was too much to ask, if only because it hurt so much to hear the one person that meant anything say that.

Shin nailing the curb hard, the woman retracted the limb before it became another lost treasure swept down the storm drain. Forcing herself into an upright position, Wen Zhihao's daughter soldiered on as she'd done so many times before - there might have been some urgency to get as far away from Rafe as she could, however she would not run. Not while he was still in sight.

 **[Hours Later]**

"Where were you?"

Roles reversed from the traditional depiction of the scene, it had been Rafe sitting up in the dark as he waited for Bai to return. Phone idle on his knee for a call that wasn't coming, she noted that he was slightly short of breath, probably from pacing the room. _Good_ , she thought to herself with a streak as vindictive as it was stubborn, _let him know what it's like to be the one on that end of the relationship for a change_. Harsh words weren't an unheard of currency in their interactions, however it was exceptionally uncommon for her to let him see just how much he had cut to the bone.

Ignoring the question to shrug out of the coat she'd been in since before getting on the plane, Bai hung the pleated jacket up and removed her once glossy heels before even turning to look in her boss's direction. It had been a long day by all accounts, however it was far from over. How it ended would be up to him (just like everything else).

Aware of what game she thought she was playing, Rafe wasn't having it. Under certain circumstances making an abrupt exit was understandable, for some. There was a time and a place for spunk; for his property there was only his clock, on his dime. Striking him like that was one thing (depending on how quickly she apologized, the consequences needn't be too severe), but he would be damned if she was going to think for a single moment that she could get away with this.

Cell slipping off the pewter fabric of his pants with a plastic whimper as he rose to his feet, the ice in his eyes crackled as he returned the favor. They both knew that she had it coming.

Holding her head high without breaking eye contact, Bai bit back the quiver of her lips with a shuddering frown that convinced no one, "Is that the best you got? You must not have been very worried about me after all." Please, if there was any concern on his part, she figured it was more related to the bottom-line.

Wrong. In fact she couldn't have been further from the truth if she tried.

Employed as a former bodyguard it was undeniable that Bai was more than capable of looking after herself, yet that hadn't stopped him from imaging the worst as the light faded in their hotel room. Thoughts getting ever more dark by the moment, all it took was once to picture her dead in a ditch somewhere. Even the best of them could be taken unawares, so it wasn't unthinkable that if it hadn't been her getting jumped in an ally, there were still other kinds of dangers lurking. Her powder habit for one. While everyone had their external forms of comfort to cling to, without fail the moment she thought he'd forgotten about their latest fight, the first place she ran was to the nearest dealer.

And they fought a lot.

Emotions getting caught in his throat like words that could ruin everything if they were ever to be spoken out loud, if there was any lingering doubts in his mind about how significant she was to him, this experience ended that argument.

"Is that what you think?" Grabbing her wrist and jerking it hard enough to elicit a response, he wanted her to feel a fraction of how badly that stung him. Wanted her to remember that pain.

"Prove me wrong." Those three little words could have ruined everything, she realized that the moment they were put out into the world, but she could have said worse or demanded more out of him. Maybe she should have, all things considered. "Make me believe I made the right decision in choosing you over my own career. Remind me why I put everything on the line in the first place." No matter what he said or did, the sick thing was that she would actually keep her word and continue to serve. He just had that kind of power over her. "Go on."

Silence, followed by disbelief and confusion. Cocking his head at the woman that had earned a special place in hell for everything she had done in his name alone, the multi-billionaire had no clue how to respond.

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?" After all the blood that stained her hands, the laws that had been broken and bent, the wars and under-the-table offers, she asked him that now? Families had been torn apart without so much as a tear shed, and this was what made her question her life choices?

Answers in shorter supply than honest expectations, this one was on him to figure out. Bai had done terrible things without a shred of remorse for any of it, had bettered herself in part to become a more lethal weapon, and she had done it all for him. Or with him in mind at the very least. There really wasn't a need to give him a recap, except to stall for time. "There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you, we both know that. I have accepted the consequences of what that means, for today and tomorrow. I think now I just need to hear it from you."

Gut telling her that she wasn't going to like the answer, Bai found herself wishing that today never happened. Waking up alone in her room, sedating herself for the flight, fighting all day on the phone, that all could go away or stay, but she could have definitely done without her daring escape and the current fallout. Really anything had to be better, even just going as far back as to the moment she entered the hotel room.

If he'd asked again where she'd been all night, she would have told him the truth. Barring nothing from her account, the businesswoman would have gone into detail about how she'd found someone that looked a fair bit like her lover in a bar. Barbed and playing it up just get back at him for some of what she felt, she even would have said plainly what her intentions with the man had been. Angry, hurt, and not even fully understanding the reason why, she would have elaborated that she had gone as far as paying the stranger to join her in the restroom.

What might have gotten left out (at least at first) would have been what happened next.

People died in Vegas every single day, so Bai saw no danger or wrong in luring the man into the stall so that she could choke the life out of his wasted husk. Except that when they had reached the stall, she realized that she couldn't do it. Her hands had been poised over the proxy's neck as they swapped saliva, and the dolt was so far from expecting his imminent demise that he was practically offering the opportunity on a silver platter. Everything was in place, but she couldn't do it. And not just the murdering part but the sex as well.

Apparently just a human thing to not like rejection, the faux-Rafe acted very much like the real one and hadn't reacted well to the change of heart. Not immediately taking no for an answer, as a courtesy the woman had shoved him back so she could exit the U-bend. In his anger he'd attempted to cling tighter in order to pull her back in, however he had no clue what it was he was dealing with - by now the authorities should have extracted the miserable bastard out of the toilet.

"Just what is it that you're hoping to hear? That I'm sorry? Grow up." Physical pain only going to register so much to the woman at that point, he knew that the only place to hit her was on the inside; even that was only so sweet when she got like this. Logically the answer might have been staring the man in the face, however the easy target was to poke at the possibility that she was starting to want more out of him than she promised she would. He could understand why she'd fall in love with him, but they made a promise.

"No." So far as Rafe was concerned, she wasn't going to control the story, not now, not ever.

"No?" Bai understood the kind of person that he was going in, but how could he just dismiss her so easily? The worst part was that a small fraction of her had been dumb enough to delude herself into thinking that he might have said anything else instead. "No. I use my over-time and sick days to find the first girl that ever rejected you, and this is the thanks I get. Of course. By the way, that's the thing I wanted to tell you all week - I found that little tart, and I brought her back to my place in the Yukon for you."

Touched by the gesture - especially when he had only mentioned that encounter once when they'd been a drink or two shy of black-out drunk - Rafe loosened his grip. "No one asked you to do that."

"You didn't have to." Unable to rip herself free again if it came down to it, the fight died in Bai's eyes as well as in her frame. "I saw how much you were hurt, and I can't abide by that. Obviously." It almost made sense to just say the words, despite how much agony he was putting her through, only she couldn't. Not at a time when she would only half mean them.

Amazing. How could she get how deeply that first rejection affected him as a child but not fathom that he was only mad at her because he was so scared now? Added to the list of things they'd never say to one another out loud, he was genuinely terrified that something had happened to her when she'd slipped away from his security team. There would always be another employee to take over running the business in his stead, but there was only person he'd surrender control of the sun and moon for.

"Remind me again how you had better grades?" Maybe the closest thing she'd get to an actual apology, Rafe conceded to compromise. "No one can say you got them because of your connections."

Lost for a moment, it was her turn to cock her head to the side. "You remember that? We were only in the same class for a single semester!" A laugh threatened to crack across her lips. "But what does that have to do with any of this?" His admiration for her hard work was a huge deal, but she really didn't understand why he would just bring that up out of the blue.

As ever Rafe was one to command, not request. "Come with me." Bai wanted some grand gesture to affirm that she hadn't made a mistake in going against nature and God for him, and he had a pretty good idea what she needed.

Tempted to do as she was bid, her second phone rang. "Work." Upset that the moment had been ruined, the businesswoman adjusted her glasses. "I need to take this. I should take this." An excellent line, but who was she trying to convince?

"Don't." Giving her a single second to fight his decision, he took the phone from the breast pocket of her crisp linen shirt and threw it someplace next to his own. "Trust me."


	33. Survival of the Fittest

**\- Chapter Thirty -**

 **Survival of the Fittest**

Fresh air never tasting sweeter than after a jaunt through the sewers, Drake was glad to see the end of the road.

Jubilation short-lived, as the ex-con gingerly hoisted the grimy grating to gain access to his in, something equal parts damp and dark splashed down his cheek. Blasted by a hose from the smell of all the moisture weighing the air, the initial compound had been watered down considerably, but not enough to completely ebb away all trace of color. Droplets far and few enough between to hazard that the drain had been in use recently, experience and the tension coiling in his gut told him that it wasn't paint. Would that he were naive enough to believe otherwise...

Doused in worse in his day, there hadn't been much point in wiping whatever it was away, although there was mild concern as to what it was he was opting to ignore. Well not concern per say, but it was in fact a mystery as to what exactly the substance had been. Not just a guy thing, it seemed harmless enough, and again, treasure hunting was't the exactly cleanest of gigs, so there was no real need to dwell on it. Especially not when he'd just been drudging through the underground and smelled like it.

Her royal highness might disagree on the other hand; recalling a question about the tools that had been used to remove the shrapnel from the pool incident, Sam could just about hear her in his ear, commenting on how unsanitary his grand entrance had been. Following her insinuation, the scenario playing out in his head saw him shrug it off further, telling the little snip that everything that wasn't sewage had been watered down too much to be sure one way or another. She'd probably turn green at that.

Bringing his hands to the rear of his jeans after closing the manhole back up, the adventurer made a mental note that something familiar and sickeningly sweet cloyed the senses. Room most likely sealed at every other angle, the air was stale and damp enough to permeate the layers beneath the skin, sending a chill up his spine. Enough to make his eyes swim, the atmosphere alone would have been enough to gag the girl; for everyone's sake, they had better find another way out of the prison.

Dialing the hyperbole down a notch, the hunter of fortunes and those that would inherit them found himself in what appeared at first to be a wine cellar. If indeed it had only been wine that had gotten him, no harm done, but after those photographs... Sam couldn't quite shake the feeling that Angel and Ashley had been busy; but was it his girl that they were working on? He sincerely hoped not - Dells didn't look as if she had much of a constitution for pain. Ironic, given who, or rather what, what her parents were.

Mind a little too quick to forget how relatively few tears had been shed from the stitches, the brunette was faster still at recalling every time the young thing had given over to weakness. And there had been so many tears spilled. Distracting himself from considering the possibilities as to why or what it could led into, his brain simply refused to give the heiress more credit for whatever reason. Maybe if he allowed her room to form an identity outside of her parents' shadows, she might surprise him.

He didn't want that, so instead he let the dark and morbid side of his imagination roam free as he gazed around the unlit cellar to get a better grasp on his bearings.

Part ingrained know-how and part reruns of his sister-in-law's old show, Sam noted that three of the four walls were newer, the farthest of them discolored with age. Natural material down to the mortar, there was a noticeable weakness where something on the opposite side appeared to have been rammed too ferociously or one too many times. Crumbling and gathering a certain kind of mold already, the hasty additions of the original building were almost painfully obvious to his trained eye. Three of four walls contrasting the old artistry with crude synthetic patches, the stark differences left behind none of the same tells.

Narrow search radius of his light indicating that he had yet to breech the surface, simple process of elimination ruled out his flashlight as being faulty, backing up the theory that he was still underground, if not outright proving it. While there hadn't been too many uses for the mechanical light-bringer in recent days, the batteries had been freshly changed out within the past year. Effectiveness (or lack thereof) nothing new in his line of work, Samuel wondered how many more things had been added or altered from the blueprints.

Amber beam acting as his guide more than the blueprints at this juncture, as he explored the area further the brunette stumbled from a city of casks to the last thing he wanted to see: Angel's twisted workshop. Or at the very least a version of it.

Instruments gleaming in the focused ray of buttery light, from what he could see in the metal clusters not everything in the disinfecting jars were scalpels or surgical needle-threaders. _Jesus._ Turning away from the freshly-used knives drying on a mobile gurney littered with grudgingly cared-for bandages (some of which were partially trampled and still dirty) the explorer's eyes fell on the floor.

Crimson where it was still wet and browning at the edges and in between the thin lines between the rough tiles, clearly not everything washing the cold cement had come from the drums. Well that solved that mystery.

Easily the most unsettling part of the display, a chair very much like a throne had been built into the center of the room. Intricately carved once upon a time, the only part of the wood that hadn't been worn (or scratched, clawed, etc) away was the back. Depicting Perseus decapitating Medusa, the handsomely bordered image had been smeared with dark stains. Some of which were fresher than others. _Dells._ Sam felt the knot in the pit of his stomach tighten.

Picturing the absolute worst that could be done to a human by another human, it was impossible to not envision the countless victims that had been brought to slaughter. Running rampant in the death-scented darkness, how long had Angel and Ashley been at this, and how much longer would they be allowed to take their twisted pleasures? Gloom just frail enough to give way to the beam of light he shone over the scene as he passed, the faint scarlet gleam left the experienced explorer with honest fear of what the fresh gore meant for the heiress. He was a big boy and could take care of anything that came his way, but the girl?

Sam made short work of putting the torture chamber to his back.

 **[Tigeress In A Police Station]**

Victory a sure thing in her mind, the mercenary-turned-treasure hunter kept on the big guy until the bitter end. It was to the death, and Nadine Ross wasn't about to budge! Why would she, when she never had before? To question herself for even an instant would have been tantamount to surrender, so in order to keep her edge and avoid yielding to doubt, she learned to take every encounter as a win before the first blow landed.

Not completely without fight, her foe had scrambled to rip the wild feline off of her perch. When it inevitably dawned on the brute that that wasn't happening, he repeatedly rammed her back into the building and used the walls like his own personal scratching post. Dealt worse blows in her life, the former mercenary knew that that would hurt like hell in the morning, however she wasn't about to let go.

Rafe had been a long time ago - long enough to know with absolute certainty that almost none of this was for him. Rescuing his daughter was for the sake of keeping one more girl out of trouble, so the only Adler benefiting was her. In fact, this was all for the living, including her allies. Drake was obviously the most desperate to get the Adler girl back, however it was clear that Chloe and the little surfer also wanted to see the heiress recovered. Meenu was probably a factor in why Frazer was so adamant about this job, although this had all happened on her watch, so that probably figured in as well. With Chloe there could have been a myriad of other reasons as well, one never fully knew. Point was, none of this was without a reason.

Mind reaffirming her purpose as she was crushed between the armor-class foe and the wall, the former mercenary snapped to attention when she realized that her enemy was short of breath. In terms of will-power, there weren't many that could outmatch Nadine.

Were it not so difficult to show recourse for her actions, if it hadn't been a matter of life and death the woman might have felt more remorse for all the lives that had ended at her hands. For all she knew he could have had dreams beyond all this, even someone that depended on him. Granted the notion might not have always occurred after a kill, it was frequent enough to not come as a shock when the deed had been done. Forged from the fires of necessity and survival, the thought was usually gone as quick as it came. No matter who her opponent was or the person they reminded her of, it came down to her or them, and she wasn't about to be an easy target.

Her father would have been proud.

Every cord and tendon contracted to bear down upon the enemy, her nails digging into unwilling flesh and drawing blood. Fingertips aching and soaked with sweat, the woman grunted with effort; everything was screaming inside to overcome the unexpected obstacle. On the verge of tapping out himself, the brute got one final surge to attempt to turn the tides, but it wasn't enough. Call it strength, will, luck, skill, divine intervention, the element of surprise, or even a fluke, but the end result was unmistakable: victory. Body crumpling into her embrace after succumbing to the struggle, Nadine made sure and so snapped the goon's neck for good measure.

Despite what others may have thought of her, Nadine wasn't without a heart. But that didn't mean she was about to lie and say that this brute had put up an honest fight. How could he have when he'd been too caught off guard to truly have a chance to react?

Considerably more cautious than her son had been, the woman took the shotgun slung across the corpse and stowed her prize on her back before entering the building. So as to prevent any other surprises, she was sure to nudge the prop out of the picture before closing the door at her back. There would be more than enough trouble ahead of them, they didn't need to concern themselves with watching their backs any more than they already had to.

Eyes adjusting to the artificial white light buzzing overhead for a moment, she counted six doors before the interrogation hallway cut the corridor short, three on each side. Gliding along like a watchful wraith, ears perked for the slightest drop of a pin, she ghosted against each portal before moving forward. Listening for signs of life, her biggest audio priorities were the sounds of sobbing, struggle, or anything violent and/or traumatically intrusive that a captor could be doing to their hostage.

For the girl's sake, she hoped it wasn't the latter.

Were this not such a delicate operation requiring finesse, the former mercenary would have heavily considered just kicking every single door open until they either found the girl or there were no more doors to be kicked. But as it stood, that wasn't really much of an option. Pity.

Rafe had once compared Shoreline's excavation technique to "a couple hundred well-armed bulls in a china shop". He wasn't much wrong she supposed, but more than bring that old wound to light, she had to wonder what he would have done in this situation. In any universe Rafe mounting a rescue effort was the last thing she could ever see the billionaire doing, although this was his own flesh and blood at stake. So far as Nadine had seen he'd down well enough by the girl, however it was still Rafe...

Much as she hated to use a Drake as a positive example, the former merc knew that Nathan and his wife would have ripped through this place with all haste and furry until their little girl was returned. One way or another. A more calculating creature by trade, the mother of Rafe's offspring likely would have proceeded with caution so that the child might be returned with the maximum amount of parts intact. Probably. Bai was cold enough to leave some room for uncertainty, although all things considered Ross knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that she would ultimately get her daughter back and pay back the offending parties in kind... with interest. Try as she might, Nadine couldn't say with confidence which seemed a more likely reaction for her old partner.

Poor kid.

Undoubtedly there would be those that would have killed for the advantages afforded Drake's little heiress, however Nadine had been granted a rare glimpse behind the velvet curtain. Born to a smarmy psychopath and a dangerously greened-eyed she-devil, the infant had been swaddled in possession and drip-fed indifference. Being raised in a house of lies built on a foundation of blood was only the start. And it didn't seem like it was going to get much better in the foreseeable future.

One to give credit where it was due, Nadine could admit that Rafe had displayed every semblance of caring for his daughter. Asking herself how much had been for show, the woman couldn't say for sure how much he had actually been there. Certain staff had been on hand to observe the daily as a proxy for the billionaire, and the baby's mother made certain that he checked in periodically, but had it been enough? Present only in a limited capacity as the current partner, Ross couldn't speak for the child, however it was plain as day that the mother was less than satisfied. In fact she could even recall Bai storming through the penthouse Rafe had rented out for the weekend, the woman screaming and shouting in at least two different languages as she dropped off the child for "quality time". Rafe had not been thrilled.

An advocate of Rafe spending quality time with his little one, Nadine hadn't objected to the disruption in their plans. Although like the reluctant father, she knew Bai. Extreme one way to describe it, the shrewed businesswoman was far too attached to her baby to just leave young Daniella with her father while he was with another woman.

Obviously Rafe was the type that was just going to do as he pleased, however there was one point they could agree upon as parents and elitists: Daniella must be protected from the foul scum of the earth that were below her. Problem was was that while they concurred that not just anyone could interact with the girl, the exact parameters of what was acceptable was called into question. At a malleable age, Rafe's vetting processes seemed to have been fairly extensive but it at least allowed for anyone that might have taught skills worth learning, whereas Bai's had been downright impossible.

Hindsight as cruel a master as fate, since Daniella had grown up to be a jewel protected as much as (if not more than) any other treasure on the green earth, surely that implied that she must have meant something to her parents as well. Right? Nadine never had once envied the heiress her position - nor would she at this rate - however the girl didn't seem to hold a grudge against her father. Quite the contrary; from the very beginning Daniella thought the world of her father. Maybe she was a poor judge of character, but if there was ever anyone that could give you a reason to dislike them, it was Rafe.

Daniella certainly would have given her father credit for doing everything in his power to save her, so maybe he would have. The young woman couldn't have been _that_ blind.

Figurative thinking aside, for whatever reason they might have had for it, every single one of their rag-tag unit was game for bringing the heiress back. Including Wyatt, although that didn't come as much of a surprise, all things considered. The problem with that was that with so many probes out on the field at once, it was highly likely that things would go awry. Not even blaming Drake this time, it was just simple math. Someone would be seen, or might stumble into the wrong room, make a racket, or even get tagged from behind. Not even invoking the adage of Murphy's Law, it went without saying that anything could have gone wrong. Although linguistically that might have been a redundant contradiction... Regardless, once it was factored in that they were almost certainly using outdated information as well...

Honestly the odds were stacked against them.

Brain running drills through every scenario that she could think of, the woman paused when she caught sight of Wyatt's mark. Clever boy, letting her know which way he went so that they didn't have to risk being in the open any longer than was absolutely necessary. Not without some training in the art of tracking, the indicator wasn't nearly subtle enough to prevent unwanted parties from attempting to get the jump on him, however she understood the reasons for his haste.

Opting for the road not taken, the fact that she hadn't seen anyone else in the hallway was setting off red flags left and right. If they had to go through three people just to get inside the building, how was it that the rest of the floor seemed to be void of all other life? Nadine had even poked her head into all six doors on the off chance that they had stored the Adler girl inside, however there hadn't been a single person. Unconscious or otherwise. Not a single hired hand slacking on the job, hiding an office romance from the boss, not even convening in secret for whatever misdeeds. There wasn't anything...

Unnerved one word for it, it just felt wrong. Where the hell was everyone?!

 **[Thief In The Thick]**

Intention being to regroup with the others at some point, the lanky brunette put the catacomb-like chambers behind him without a second glance. Making his way past the holding cells, all he discovered was an underground shooting range and a small office in which the inmates could be monitored without having to risk direct interaction. Two pairs of night vision goggles were in the underground torture chamber, confirming his theory of the room's purpose. But beyond that, there really hadn't much of interest or in the way of clues.

Unless you counted the skeletal and twisted caricatures that resided in the horrible holding cells, the living and dead indistinguishable at a glance. Space overflowing with remains and rags in various states of decay, it was a miracle that the stench of death hadn't choked Sam to more than a few tears. Reek alone more than enough to scar a lesser man, the sight of what appeared to be a woman protecting her child would stick with him for some time. If the starvation that had left the bone-white flesh thiner than paper didn't leave a mark on the hunter, it was going to be the stringy flesh hanging out of blood-stained teeth, the carnivorous marks that had broken part of the smaller skull.

On a less grim note, for just a moment he thought he might have caught a whiff to indicate a young woman's presence, however there were too many other smells in the air to be sure. Sweat and blood the most identifiable, there were other things as well, none of which were particularly pleasant.

Splitting from that scene post-haste, Sam made for the first floor. If the old intelligence was to be believed, the stairs he took were one of two sets, the second of which were on the opposite end of the building and intended for emergency use. Apparently the not-quite-historical landmark wasn't as old as the foundations wanted to pretend it was, as the structure had been built with a pair of electric elevators. Risky as using the more convenient form of transport would have been, it sounded like a good idea - or at least it had, until he remembered that only one of the metal cages went down to the basement-level. Assuming of course that the details still held true, going for the lift meant circling back around and heading west through the workshop and passed even more holding cells.

Obviously sticking around this cheerful place was tempting, but he had plans for dinner so it was best not to linger.

Already on the fence about their odds of successfully retrieving her royal highness, Drake was even less certain that they could slip back out without a peep. Stealth and cunning were important tools in any good treasure hunter's arsenal - really those skills were universal if one thought about it - but to be perfectly frank getting in and getting out were two entirely different things. In all his adventures, Sam couldn't readily recall a single instance where he'd gotten away cleanly. Not to say that it hadn't happened, he just couldn't think of any examples off the top of his head.

Not particularly comforted by the workings of his memory, the brunette resumed his journey to the surface. Speaking generally and honestly, the upward trek wasn't nearly as enjoyable as the descent, or at least he didn't think so. On the bright side, all the movement was a good workout; not blaming anyone by name, since the heiress had been dropped on his doorstep there hadn't been much room for breaking a sweat. The thief thought to himself that he should really rectify that.

Heedless of what was waiting for him, Sam stepped into the lion's den. Or rather, the Tiger's den.

Main lobby converted into an open think-tank, a quick peek around the corner revealed that just about every visible screen was plastered with old data files. The hope clearly being that going through literally everything with a fine-toothed comb might reveal some over-looked lead, what wasn't personal records appeared to be maps and other odds and ends. In an applause-worthy move wise as it was invasive, all of Daniella's currently known cohorts were also under observation, however they were only a minor fraction of the investigation.

Chloe returning from her latest trip abroad, Logan's private social media conversations, Sam himself crawling back to his hotel in the early light of dawn. Nothing was off limits to the Orange Tiger, yet from all the head-scratching and multi-lingual swearing going on, Sam found it safe to say that they were still missing valuable pieces of the puzzle. Good thing these morons were a bunch of idiots.

Brunt of the operation consumed by images of Daniella in uniform, it seemed as if the public had only ever seen the girl getting in or out of either a sleek black company-issued vehicle or a classic blue Oldsmobile. Recalling mention of her work to the peanut gallery one night, Drake would wager that point "A" was school, the destination being that building from the news. If not there, it was a safe bet that the teen had been transported to some other equally boring extracurricular activity.

Actual images of the young woman almost suspiciously rare, it was apparent that Bai's security hadn't left many windows for spies. Although that was only assuming that the young woman lived her life on her mother's schedule. Teens had a way of rebelling, so the thief had the feeling that if he watched the monitors long enough he'd see the lost time that mother dearest couldn't account for. While it might be a devastating blow to Bai to learn that her daughter was in fact a human and needed time to herself, Sam sincerely doubted that the girl he met under such dire circumstances would get up to anything too bad. Maybe a petty theft here and a skipped curfew there, but in the end nothing he hadn't done as an underage detainee of the state.

Street clothes as vanilla as the heiress, the only remotely dangerous thing in the stills appeared to be a repeat photobomber. Easily mistakable for security, Sam supposed that Dells might have found the man handsome enough, despite the fact that a neatly-trimmed goatee was the only outlandish thing about the guy that stood out. Well, apart from how many times he could be seen floating through the background of events hacked from the cameras of the audience.

About to shrug it off as a random coincidence, the brunette paused when he caught it clear as day; they said that a picture was worth a thousand words, but frankly Sam could really only think of a handful.

Preparing to run track against a dozen or so others with a sense of pomp and rivalry, the heiress was in position at the starting line and clearly concentrating on the goal ahead. Normal enough. No, what caught his eye wasn't the athletes but the crowd; more specifically, the mystery man. Head tilted back at an angle no one enjoying the sport would find practical, if there was any doubt about the dubious way the man was caught biting his lips, everything was cleared up by following his line of sight.

Did miss Adler have a stalker?

Guilty himself of entertaining thoughts about gandering at the young woman when he was sure that she wasn't looking, the hired muscle didn't much care to see Daniella being gawked at so openly. Concerned very suddenly with how naive the heiress was to the ways of the world, between her mother's methods and growing up without a stable father-like figure in the picture, it was almost a guarantee that self-esteem was in short supply. Searching for acceptance and companionship, her upbringing had to have created the perfect storm of fear and doubt that robbed her of the good sense to say 'no'. The ideal mark.

Not stopping to consider if Dells knew about her fan (let alone ponder if it was something that she allowed), Sam found the next target for Bai to turn her attention to once all this had been settled. If it ever got settled that is... At this rate, it was beginning to feel that Mother Dearest had staged this whole production as a means of pawning her kid off on the first available sucker that would take her. Convoluted as that would have been, there surely had to have been a million and one better saps to con, so why involve him of all people? Honestly he still was having a hard time reconciling Bai's motives with all of the facts, but hell if that woman had ever made sense to him.

 _A means to an end, she'd called him._ Admittedly that had stung at the time, but in the end he had had the last laugh. And he just might again.

Whistling too faint to make out at first, as the unmistakable clomp-clomp of heels on concrete closed in Sam was certain that someone was coming his way. Actually half-decent in terms of musical skill, he recognized the tune of an eighties show that had been resurrected in the on-going nostalgia wave. Ears always perked for trouble, even if the Tiger hadn't announced themselves so carelessly the thief was fairly certain that he would have caught on that he'd had company sooner than later. All the same, Sam realized he was lucky that he'd be the one to get the jump on the grunt, and not the other way around.

Pressing himself into the shadows against the dank walls amongst crates and cobwebs, the historian melded seamlessly into the corner. Arms laden with archived files from the lost days of paper receipts, the figure coming up from the bowels of the heart of darkness was completely ignorant of their surroundings. Using the lack of vigilance against the unfortunate goon, Sam sprung on the unsuspecting sap just as they came within arms length. Like a true professional, Drake had the toady in a headlock before so much as a peep was made _and_ had tucked the body to the side in no less than three heartbeats.

Slow work, but he still had it.

Area clear, the brunette poked his head around the corner once more to scope out the scene. Two women debating heavily over the photograph of the goateed stalker, another almost falling asleep as she read through lists of time stamps and coordinates. Dull as the work was, it wasn't too hard to guess what her job was. As for the two bickering back and forth, it sounded as if there was a schism that ran deeper than just the pair, but for the life of him he couldn't quite grasp what the fight was technically about.

Something about purity? Being Rafe's daughter Sam could see how a few feathers might be ruffled about Daniella's heritage, but he didn't see how the lingerer fit into the picture. Obviously of some Middle Eastern descent Mr. tall, dark, and handsome wasn't old enough to be thought of as a potential secret father, and anyways the one thing that he could give Bai was that outside a few isolated incidents, she was fiercely loyal. Besides, the way he was eying the young woman at the race was anything but paternal.

Unless they were insinuating that the girl not only knew about her number fan but was... no. No. Not in a million years! Not that frightened girl that had so shyly tried to cover herself at every available opportunity. Not Dells.

She might have been her parent's daughter, but that at least was one area it was impossible confuse her with what came before.

Refusing to see it, the thief turned his head away to gaze at a collection of strategists flocked around the drawing board. Numbers, patterns, probabilities, and other variables the common jargon being thrown around the desks amassed at the heart of the operation, even a handful of the right kills there would have been a huge blow to the opposition. Sam's faith in his own skill was such that it was safe to bet that he could probably take out a decent chunk of them, especially since he had the element of surprise on his side. Hell, that alone could probably come close to doubling the kill count. However, while being alone was enough to give him pause on a good day (a good day being where the odds were stacked more in his favor), there was also the fact that this was supposed to be a stealth mission to consider as well.

Math not on his side either, his eyes tallied more than twelve at the crowded workstation alone. Between those milling around just looking busy and the others that were assigned to different tasks, the final numbers would likely be about twice that many. Of the employees the thief could clearly mark, most of them were equipped with sidearms, but there were a few that were strictly civilian and non-combatants. Knowing his little brother, Nathan probably would have made it harder on himself by monkishly making a solemn vow to leave them be, but Sam wasn't nearly so saintly.

With the direct approach vetoed, that didn't leave the historian with many alternatives; where there was a will, there was a way, and by God he was going to find that path, even if it took longer than a single five-second glance into the room. Taking close note of the layout of the map and the way the little worker bees droned about their missions, the brunette saw that there was a row of filing cabinets a few feet away that could provide sufficient cover, assuming that the person at the coffee pot didn't turn around. Technically he'd timed riskier moves in his past, and with far worse than the likes of an over-caffeinated stooge, so he wasn't too worried about his next move. It was what came after.

Sucking it up and taking the last free breath he'd be able to breathe until it was over, Sam abandoned the "safe zone" and went for it. More accustomed to ducking amongst rubble that could take only a limited number of hits in forgotten jungles and lost cities, the ex-con had almost forgotten what it was like to skirt administration. It felt strange thinking back to a time when it felt like that was all he had ever done (and might ever do).

Back screaming in protest as it was assaulted by sharp metal handholds, the brunette bit the inside of his lip to keep from making a peep and chanced a peek back over his shoulder to be sure that no one had witnessed his entry into the point of no return. Indeed the twitching sentry that might have seen him still was self-medicating in ignorant bliss. Well, that was one obstacle down. Now all that was left was migrating the maze office supplies, remaining unseen by living alarms that had no discernible patterns, and doing it faster than anyone else.

Urgency of finding the heiress aside, there was one major oversight in their plan that kept this from being as simple as a race: Daniella hadn't been acquainted with the rest of the rescue party. If the young woman wasn't bright enough to learn from whatever hells she'd had to endure in this place, it might have been as simple as them just dropping the right name. But if by chance she had been smart enough to suss out a potential ploy to win her trust that way, Nadine was going to be little more than a name to her. And if that was what the former mercenary was, what could that Wyatt boy hope to say to the heiress if he were the one to find the prize first? Would he say anything to her? If Nadine was wise, she would incapacitate the girl and just bring her back so they could have that conversation later. But Wyatt? Sam didn't have a good read on that one yet, and frankly he didn't like that.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

As anyone reading this can tell, I don't leave notes often on this particular story, however with everything that's been happening I just wanted to say that this is still going! Maybe not quite at the same pace as before, no, but it's still swimming along :)

I've had the outline for this chapter in the works for a few months now (yes, even before the previous chapter), so that just goes to show how much I hate/suck at bridging. While there hasn't always been a plan for this story, I tend to have a shell of what I'd like to have happen in the future. Aside from not always knowing which route I like better, sometimes it's rather difficult for me to know how to get from point "A" to point "B". But I have been trying!

To throw another wrench into the equation, a request fic has crossed my desk. Busy, busy, busy! Well, that's life (along with indecision and illness), so all we can do is keep at it! And keep at it I will!

Also, if I still have your attention, I'd sincerely like to thank you for sticking with me through this journey so far!


	34. Up, Down, All Around

**\- Chapter Thirty-One -**

 **Up, Down, All Around**

Familia.

Blood is blood and can't be changed: only accepted or destroyed. You can disavow or marry or adopt, shelter or call it a ride-or-die; so long as the bond's real then at the end of the day that counts just as much. So long as you let it. And if by chance you know this kind of crazy love, then you know that between the best and worst of times it can be a lot to bear - perhaps even more than any sane individual could manage - however you're ultimately stuck with the hand you've been dealt. What you do with it from there... well, that's a whole other can of worms.

Still, that doesn't mean that you need to feel ashamed for being unable to cope with not being the "happy" model in the stock photo that came with the frame. Although this was one of those times where it was easier said than done - Alberto was everything that a good son should have been, and he was... less so. One of the defining traits that made a Parades a Parades was that la familia came above all else, however, for the youth fleeing the scene his nerves were telling a different story.

Traditional values embodied in Alberto with goodness to spare, technically the apartment only had one name on the paperwork; less saintly, even now the younger of the brothers had to remind himself that he didn't have to be comfortable with living in inescapably close quarters. Their parents were example enough of that, when they were bothered to be an example at all. Heart twinging in his chest as he took another two steps towards the roof, a certain name flashed across his mind's eye. _What a cruel world._

Standoffish at the best of times, after a week with just a small selection of the Parades family tree the "joyous" visit had turned tedious, leaving the young man feeling done. Done with forced smiles, done with sharing a space that was already cramped to begin with, done with people in general.

At that age where everyone else seemed to be sorting out the transition from school to real life, he was just crashing there until he could work out his own living arrangements. Work was a matter more or less solved. Anyways, when the pull-out couch in the spare room was available for the best price on the market, the unassuming youth in the hand-me-down leather jacket wasn't about to just turn up his nose at free room and board. Sure the neighborhood might have been in the heart of gang territory, so what? Free was free!

Most nights might have been filled with the unfortunate company of a terminal beast a room over, true, but that was still infinitely better than what could have been. Alberto might have had little to no knowledge of what it was their striped neighbors got up to - and knowing him the ignorance was all for peace of mind - but he wasn't nearly so blind. No, oddly enough what came the closest to being the straw that broke the camel's back (ha) wasn't the profession of the leaseholder or even the location of the rooms. For the freeloader, it boiled down to personality.

One of the few redeeming traits passed along from their parents, at the end of the day both siblings could cut through the bullshit to see the good in one another; modern living just got in the way some nights. Usually weekends, when a majority of the veterinarian's time was spent at either the animal clinic downstairs or out. Just out.

Beyond the point where the novelty of getting to bring his own beer to the party had worn thin, the younger sibling felt like there was a difference between having fun and just being a dick for the sake of it. Teflon in that he couldn't be touched with accusations, Alberto truthfully wasn't so bad when it was just him on his own (not that he'd ever hear those words out loud). Obviously he had his moments, but who didn't? Point is, the younger Parades brother honestly didn't want to think about their faceless company or what was happening behind closed doors.

 _Urgh,_ he groaned internally as he ascended the stairs to the rooftop, _I sound just like my abuela._ Like all elders with little more left to do than oversee the future of their grandchildren, he knew that she meant well in theory, yet that did little to make the medicine easier to swallow.

Speaking of his abuela, tio Gabriel should be pulling up to collect her and the rest of the family in another fifteen minutes or so. Farewells already spoken ad nauseam, now all that was left was an informal dinner for the cousins. As the kindest and most responsible of tio Gabe's triplets (yeah, triplets), Minnie would offer to take everyone else that was interested out for either dinner or drinks. Having given himself the time off, Alberto would opt for drinks after dinner, with or without the rest of the Parades clan. The youngest and most studious of the three, Alejandro would need to tend to his neglected homework, so he'd doubtlessly scurry back to his dorm at the first opportunity. Free-spirit Imelda would raise no objections and just "go with the flow". Newly single (and the sole son from a previous relationship), Juan might prove to be the only wild card. Married for the last six years he'd made a certain routine for himself, although that alone might be enough to convince him to stay out later than he might usually.

For those without a problem socializing - i.e. the rest of the family - there would be no refusing the farewell feast, which basically guaranteed at least three hours respite. And that was without going for drinks. Until then, the oft forgotten child would have to hide up on the roof and hope that his intentionally muted demeanor was enough for the rest to conveniently forget to count heads. As there was historically such a pattern, that wasn't too tall an order.

Unperturbed by the solitude and in fact convinced that the separation was better for everyone involved, what seemed like the most daunting task was figuring out how to make the most of the situation. Theoretically the correct answer was to follow Ale's example and study up on the details of his latest assignment, however considering that he was a procrastinator at heart and that there wasn't really a rush, now seemed like a good opportunity to just relax.

 **[Logan and Chloe]**

Chloe did not care much for the revision to the plan, but she couldn't deny that the surfer version of Sam was on to something. Not that she let the guy know she agreed from the start - the dark-haired thief may have seen it his way, but it was with no small amount of reluctance. Plus in her experience, it was just fun messing with anyone in the Drake family.

Accents all the cover they required, the blonde was quick to realize that they could do as the halflings did and put themselves closer to the danger so that they were that much safer from harm. Somehow he had the impression that the Aussie beauty wouldn't quite see the simple brilliance if he were to phrase it as a pop culture reference, so he refrained. Instead, as he put it to his companion, they could hide in plain sight and pose as tourists if anyone approached. After all, how could someone from out of town be expected to know what sort of place this really was?

The harder sell, Logan could pass as the personification of California despite being born on the opposite coast. He had the hair, the laid-back disposition, and the same infectious charm as an A-lister, except for him it was genuine. Any geographic buffs to catch them might have raised an issue about his ignorance, however it wouldn't be such a stretch to buy that he was clueless as a lamb at the slaughter. Sharp as she was, Chloe was confident that her accent alone would convince the average joe. And the not-so-average-joe? Frazer had a fix for that too.

Sun as faded as their hopes were beginning to look, she glanced to her partner in crime after his sixth or seventh look to the upper story windows. From where they sat, one of them wasn't catching the buzzy golden glow of the street lights the same as the others, which had led her to speculate that it had been broken. The only mistake there had been saying it out loud - it was only natural that Logan would be worried. _But was it for the father that wanted no part of his life, or for the girl? He said he had come back for her, that it was the right thing to do, but now that the fan had been plugged in and switched on, had that changed?_

"Trust me, we'll know." Having worked with both brothers on a number of occasions throughout her career, Chloe was absolutely certain that they would get some sign before the night was over, although she doubted it would come from the comms.

Only half aware that he had been gawking at the building's weak point yet again, Logan hesitantly tore his eyes away from the Rampage-style opening and nodded in her direction. Hands in his pocket from the chill of the wind, the blonde wished he had brought his hat as well. "Chelsea would say tha same thing if she were here... She always knows what ta say."

Right, he had mentioned having a wife. Not really the settling down type herself, a part of her brain had switched off whenever the little woman came up, however she'd heard enough to have painted a picture in her mind. "Cute little Kiwi, yeah?"

Cute only she was being bossy, for every other moment Logan thought that she was simply the most beautiful thing in the world, body and soul. Chelsea was the best, plain as that: smart, caring, and as important as breathing. "Yep. Man, I 'member the fight she kicked up when I asked her ta move in wit me. I kinda mostly jus lived in my van, campin' under the stars where ever I could. But when I met Chel, I knew I'd do anythin' for her, even give up the world." To be fair, by that point he'd seen more than enough to keep any man content; not that type of woman, the nurse would never ask him to give up who he was. "She was cool wit jus slummin' it for a bit. It was jus leavin' home that scared her so much. I know Sydney's still pretty far from Auckland, but I took her back every other weekend for the three years we lived there, like I promised."

"Pretty tourist-ey. You take her anyplace else?" At least now it made sense how he picked up on her accent so quickly.

Throughly distracted, Logan smiled before he rattled off a list. "Where haven't I been wit my better half? First there was..."

 **[Wyatt's Assessment]**

Fun not the first word to come to mind as he rode the elevator to the roof, Wyatt was deeply and truly disappointed that there wasn't enough cannon fodder to constitute so much as a mild workout. Scarcely even breaking a sweat from the moderate target dummies gunning for him, the soldier had to wonder if the premises were only being covered by the under-trained desk jockeys. Given the scene he'd uncovered in one of the offices, he could believe it; not the choice he would make in the enemy's position, but assuming the missing party was who he thought it was, it was an understandable strategy. Having said that, the mercenary's offspring wouldn't have used kidnapping as his method of approach either.

Eyes to be believed, there had been some nature of scuffle or other excitement at some point, most likely prior to the the arrival of the rag-tag rescue team. A janitor had yet to be sent up to clean up the few shards that hadn't exploded outward in the daring escape, so that was encouraging to the timeline. Another thing that made Wyatt ponder the escapee's identity was the importance of the hostage - with the queen in play, why mess with mere pawns on the board?

Ordinarily these discoveries could have been construed as a promising omen, yet there was a major "but" at the end of that sentence: other than the little fact that there were historically few escapes from the Tiger's clutches, there was nothing to indicate it was his girl. In fact, from all the intel he had on Adler's little princess, there was nothing in her background to suggest that there was even a remote possibility that it was her. Athletic activity aside, Daniella stayed on her mother's lane and hardly ever veered off the course.

Like her father before her, the heiress had displayed the physical capacity required for a dangerously active lifestyle, receiving instruction in fencing and competitive swimming. Not to mention a handful of the other common staples found on the resume of just about every other one percenter. In an effort at balance, technically the young woman wasn't without some useful ability; some self-defense classes, a year of Brazilian jiu-jitsu, and almost a lifetime of archery.

Princess oozed money and refinement, and in an attempt that screamed rebellion, had elected for kayaks and dirt bikes. From all accounts there wasn't a sport around that she hadn't dipped her toe into at least once, yet from his experience a leopard can't change its spots. Granted knowing how to ride could easily come in handy, if the heiress had attempted to join his unit she would have been refused on the grounds of being unqualified. True, due to her advantages she would likely score higher than most applicants, but there was more to surviving than what she had learned in a classroom or even out on what she would consider to be 'the field'. Girl had no idea.

Although there was something to be said of fear - she might have lacked the proper training to be a soldier, however if motivated Wyatt believed anyone could save their own skin.

By that logic it made sense to investigate the missing person, just on the off chance that it really was the Adler girl. Following that possibility through to it's natural conclusion, when he stood in the office he tried to imagine the scene as best he could. Whoever it was would have been terrified of what was waiting for them, but if they hadn't already had a taste then they wouldn't have been nearly frightened enough. And if they knew what to expect, they would have been desperate enough to try anything - hence the window. Lack of personal making much more sense when there was a highly valuable goldmine on the lam, it could be inferred from the empty space that there was also a lack of a body.

Close enough to the edge to be knocked over by a strong enough gust of wind, Wyatt had surveyed the damage outside before deciding on a course of action. Since it was growing late, visibility was diminishing greatly, but not enough to miss Chloe and the surfer lingering by the defunct fountain at the front. From the looks of them sitting at the base, one would have thought they were just old friends catching up.

Dumb a move as hiding in plain sight was, in that moment Wyatt figured that it was actually rather brilliant - this time. Any of the goons coming or going would more than likely give status updates on the missing person, and if the duo had been posted there long enough, surely even the blonde could work out who they were talking about. His mother was right to admire how crafty a creature Chloe was.

Since the ground was covered (as well as it could be), Wyatt figured that if this was indeed the heiress, he'd have better luck following her example. Breaking the pattern of the expected, it was clear to him that his path was to canvas the rooves. Thumb brushing the radio at his hip, the soldier left the office and made for the elevator at the back of the hall.

 **[Objection In The Enemy Think Tank]**

Luck on his side this time (for the moment at least), Drake allowed himself a soft sigh of relief when someone called out to the mook filling up on crappy espresso. Floor laid out like a half-finished game of Tetris that had been rigged to an impossible difficulty, Coffeepot turned ever-so-slightly when hailed. Not familiar enough with the language to be sure of what was said exactly, all the thief knew was that a pretty little thing had moved up to block the one vulnerability in his hiding place.

Ready to turn a blind eye to his unexpected savior, Sam wasn't too preoccupied thanking his lucky stars to notice an easy nine. Seriously, raw beauty greater than the magnetic pull of the rich and fabulous, it was no mystery who he'd be thinking about later that night. Rather the following morning at this rate, but again, screw the semantics.

Speaking of screwing, it was a shame that that probably wouldn't be happening anytime soon... Unless he could work his charms on the impressionable ward that had been so generously dumped on his lap... Whereas this naughty office stereotype had the look of a lay that could make up for the lost time, Rafe's little girl looked like she'd be both clingy and a crier. Christ knows he'd already seen just about every other type of tear out of her; although the ex-con had been fooled before.

Every inch the quintessential ice queen, Bai was apparently as much of a diva in the sheets has she had been in the boardroom; what had caught Sam off-guard about his partner's partner was that she could be generous if you indulged her enough beforehand. And if memory served, that wasn't nearly as difficult as one might expect. Although considering how they had come to be, in hindsight it made more sense that all that time alone had starved the woman of the only escape she had left. Mommy, boss, and occasional toy, the vices of old just weren't in the equation - not if she wanted to keep things that way.

Could have been that she was secretly a tiny bit nicer than anyone had caught on to, but that seemed unlikely.

Back in the present, the history buff had no clue how long he could rely on the graces of coincidence, so he peered around the filing cabinet once more. Flirting over the porcelain, neither of the two had any iota that the world went on around them. Taking his chances, he darted to the cramped yet standard leg space of a moderately covered desk. For half a heartbeat he thought someone might have seen him crawling beneath the cubby, but no one had raised an alarm, so he figured he was safe. For another moment.

"Jian won't mind that his little bride has some experience, so long as she puts it to good use." Snippy, snippy.

Louder than thunder, the building argument was picking up enough to hear clear across the room, although not too many seemed flustered by the increase in volume. Quite the contrary - whoever was nearest to the seemingly unoccupied desk the brunette had commandeered had began to type even faster than before. Admirable work ethic one thing, the distracting part was the nervous pattering of feet on the hard plastic mat beneath the desk.

All traces of delicacy and forced politeness removed along with the proverbial gloves, the returning response carried a sense of intimate knowledge, "Well you would know." That was unmistakably the sound of personal knowledge on the matter, or perhaps just bitter jealousy rearing its ugly head.

Weighted footfalls of a secretary carrying one too many books in a stack at once not too far from where he was hidden, it was difficult to ignore the stinging sound of a hand slapping flesh. Well acquainted with the glowing red feeling that followed, a little part of his sympathy went out to whomever had been on the receiving end; whoever it was, they ought to have been thrilled that it wasn't Elena doing the hitting. Not a pleasant experience, especially when it was deserved (and that first time had been more than earned). Actually, even when it wasn't the petite reporter, it still bit to be in that position.

Maybe - just maybe - Sam really ought to reconsider certain life choices. Or at the least how he approached certain circumstances.

Sympathy for the devil that wasn't himself only so limited, Drake was doing his utmost to focus on figuring out if the librarian was coming or going over the feral noise of the unfolding drama. All the same, the adventurer couldn't not hear the catty devolution of language that came just before the fight. "...just like the home-wrecking little halfbreed tart!" Three guesses as to who the so-called tart was.

Label as excessive as it was vulgar, Sam would have verbally disagreed with their assessment of the heiress if it wouldn't have meant compromising his position. For silent observers that had been keeping such intimate surveillance for Christ knows how long, any one of them should have known just how inaccurate those words were. Honestly, if there was even the remotest chance that he was wrong about just how virginal the little one was, he'd have seen more than the occasional accidental glimpse of underwear by now.

If anyone in her bloodline was a home-wrecker, it was clearly her father. Obviously. Still not her biggest fan, in his mind Bai more than had the tart part covered on all her lonesome. Although... Whatever, the point was that they were stupidly, painfully mistaken about Dells.

Girl was just too boring to be bad.

 **[Atop A Veterinary Clinic]**

Weakened state leaving her vulnerable to the elements and man alike, Daniella jerked involuntarily as the web of amber street lights flickered on around her. Dim in the distance but unmistakable for what they were, the misty honeysuckle pinpricks marked the edge of one grid before becoming a greater presence less than a millisecond later. Ordinarily the warmth and electric hum would have been a most welcome sight in the dusk, however the arrival of night only meant more trouble. More danger.

Condition nearing the critical peak that came just before the flat line, what little ration remained begged for the girl to snap to so that she might make more of an effort at self-preservation. Logically the next move was to find better cover if there really was no pushing her body forward, however she lacked the strength to do more than fling one arm out to pull herself forward. Possessing the physical strength required to drag herself on a good day, for all the fight left in her spirit Daniella's arms may as well have been made of rubber. Or cooked noodles that had been left in the water too long, leaving them soggy. Taffy melted in the sun or a bloody sack of meat that had been de-boned. Lovely imagery aside, even that was too generous for how she felt.

 _Daddy said they could be together again soon..._

Tears welling up in the corner of her eyes, the cold blew right through Daniella's marrow and froze in her lashes like crystals. Broken enough to not even bother blinking them away this time, instead she wondered if they looked anything like the beautiful necklace her mother had bought her for a prom that had come and gone without so much as a single invitation. Expensive gifts were the norm, but Mama had genuinely been happy to share such a milestone with her daughter... Oh, and the dress! Perhaps the only thing more beautiful than the unworn dress was the smile on Mama's face when she tried it on. How badly had she been disappointed by the outcome? Was it more or less than what she felt for her child on any given day?

 _What did it matter, when all I can do is bring shame and dishonor?_

Reminded of her mother indirectly, the heiress couldn't help but relive her own resentment. Gnawing like a flesh-eating virus, black as the night that promised to be her last, and festering, just the thought of that woman left a sour taste in her mouth. Daniella didn't want to feel this way about the woman that had given birth to her, but how could she not? The hurt of learning just how much her mother pulled the strings behind the scenes was just too much to forgive! So what if she was being dramatic? It wasn't like she had a great example!

Horrible as it was, she wished that she could just go back to thinking that her mother was dead. Christ, that night felt like a thousand years ago now... Breath hitching in her chest as her throat constricted, the young woman bitterly remembered that she'd promised herself that there would be no more tears; a liar just like Mama, the young woman honestly thought that she was going to die on that rooftop, alone. Always alone. Why was she always alone? What was so wrong with her, really?

 _Was I ever more than just a doll to her? Is it my curse to be little more than a golden ticket, or did my father know that same pain? How much anguish has to come from a name? Or, maybe... it isn't a name... Maybe it really is just me that's wrong...? How did I come to be so broken?_

Living sure would show them, but what would be the point? Mama could find a way to salvage her precious position somehow, even if that meant starting over from scratch. And of the people that would be affected by her death, that was about it. Sure, Chloe and Mr. Drake might mourn for a moment, but ultimately what more could she have possibly been to them besides yet another job? Pathetic little heiress, not a friend in the world. But why bother with friendship when everyone she thought she'd cared about either used her or died? Even her own mother hadn't been exempt.

 _Just keep your eyes closed,_ Daniella told herself as all the melodrama came to a head in a warped final bow, the starring agony and isolation breaking through everything that had been holding it back. Spilling free like ichor, the young woman trembled from an ache that seeped deeper than the morrow and into the very atoms themselves, _it'll all be over soon._ Sighing into the wet wind, she knew that this time it wasn't a lie. The heiress only had to stay invisible a little while longer, and then there would be no more pain. No more cliché. No more rejection, no loss, nor harsh words and lies... No torture. No more anything.

Eyes closing in surrender, as that thought sunk in so too did the fear of the unknown.

Daniella guessed from the weeping wounds that it would hurt until the last possible moment, yet she had no clue if the woe would only grow, if that physical ribbon would remain on her soiled spirit. It might fade away like the rest of her, but then again it might not. For all she knew, it could even get worse. Though that wasn't ideal, she supposed that must have been a fair trade for her slow suicide. Because that was what this was - suicide.

Madness might have brought it on, but there was no calling it anything other than what it really was. Mama had taught her that her ancestors would be waiting for her, but what if joining them this way kept them from truly reuniting? Suppose that as the last of the line, the souls of everyone before her had ceased to be? And what about her father? Say she could get in to the afterlife, could she even be able to find him? Would he even want her to? Maybe there really wouldn't be anything waiting for her at all, but what if she had to face all of her regret? For everything that Daniella hadn't done yet, there were still one or two decisions that were called into question, especially now that everything was coming to a permanent close. Could she really face all of her guilt?

Terrified by the prospect of what was (or wasn't) waiting for her, Daniella's eyes shot open.

 **[In Tetris We Trust]**

"Just get over yourself! You think you're the only one in this room to have slept with Jian?!" Also one such statistic apparently, the goon of previously contained jealousy flared and raged as blows were exchanged. Sam couldn't see what was happening from his vantage point beneath the desk, but it wasn't hard to guess that this fight had been a long-time coming. "You weren't the first, and you definitely won't be the last! None of us will be."

Resignation echoed throughout, except instead of the realization hitting home, Drake was reminded of a day he'd honestly forgotten until that moment.

Sea-blue eyes shimmering and deadened by a powerful sense of shame and even stronger self-loathing, that final time Bai had touched her left hand, rotating a ring that wasn't there. Unaware if it had been a conscious gesture or not, the woman had done the same thing every single time they had fallen in bed together. She had clearly considered it to be cheating, but he was less sure it counted when Rafe's attention was elsewhere. What made it so different this time was that they both somehow knew that that was going to be the last time they'd be in that position.

Like every time that she 'relapsed', they had made a game of pretending to fight the attraction, most times even going as far as to threaten that it would never happen again. A magnanimous gesture on her part, the businesswoman had even allowed the ex-con to think that he was in control. For a moment. On so many levels it had been the same exact scenario as it always had been - Rafe had even called off yet another dinner with the mother of his child - yet there was no mistaking that this was a cat of another color.

It was plain to see that she genuinely loved that psycho too much to keep hurting him, despite the fact he was doing worse to her. Rafe didn't show a single sign of caring for Bai even half that much, but it was clear that she was prepared to do anything for the jackass. Fire kept mankind alive, and just like a real fire, he burned anyone that tried to get close; ice itself, Bai would burn herself alive if she had to, but she would do it. And she had on more than one ocassion.

Playing the part of a better man, he had asked Bai what had been wrong when they pulled apart, yet she could only stare at him, as if she hadn't been able to fathom the words coming out of his mouth. Finally, as he'd began to formulate fears in his mind that her kid might not be an only child for much longer, she shook her head of their short-lived affair. Fixing her glasses and blouse to return to work, to Rafe and the role he expected her to play without objection, the woman actually flashed him a sad smile before tenderly touching his cheek and rising from the office sofa they'd defiled seven ways to Sunday.

With that one simple gesture, Sam could tell how much it killed her to be faithful, just like it killed Jian's side piece to admit that their time together meant nothing.

"Give it time, this one won't be special either." Unless he was mistaken, it sounded like a third horse had entered the race. Christ, just how popular was this kid? And how could he apply to work in a place like this? In all seriousness, Sleeping Beauty might want to be careful about touching that one...

Enough time wasted on pointless memories and even less pressing musings, the thief laid low as the fight escalated, waiting until the opportune moment. Files were slammed down on desks as feet danced and stomped to watch the action, bodies jostling one another to claim the best spot. But still he waited, bidding his time. Voices rose and office supplies started to fly, but Drake didn't feel the time was right until he heard the familiar noise of someone taking bets. With people clamoring to be heard over one another (and ogling the combatants for the first signs of skin or spilled blood), he peered around the edge of his cover to make sure that the cost was at least relatively clear.

Thank God for cat fights!

 **[A Chance Encounter On A Veterinary Clinic Roof]**

Chipping alabaster paint revealing the sturdy metal below, a million and one better color options for the almost grainy pigment came to mind as his tawny fingers fumbled with the stubborn knob. There were probably a dozen different tenet complaints about the back door every week or so, however none came from Alberto. Some kind of magical door-whisperer, the licensed vet had told his kid brother repeatedly that it had to be handled the right way. Honestly he told everyone as much in a bi-lingual note he'd taped over the paper sunflowers someone else had left to make the building feel a touch more homey, but no one had quite seemed to unlock the trick.

Brother or not, frankly he thought Alberto was full of shit.

"Let's try this-" huffing from the surprising amount of resistance he was meeting from the door, the young man mumble-growled between clenched teeth, "again!" Greeted with absolutely no progress at all after three separate attempts, he leaned into the imitation wood that made up the frame and rammed his shoulder against the portal with renewed vigor. "Oh come on!" Grunting in exasperation, the younger Parades cursed himself for forgetting what a struggle it was to get outside. Somehow, he always did. "Just... a... little... bit... MORE!"

Finally budging enough to get open, the young man smiled to himself and patted the frame before stepping outside. _Such a good little door!_ Ordinarily on clear nights the first thing that hit the senses upon exiting the building was the light of an old camping lantern that had held up reasonably well after more than a couple decades of regular use. Well, semi-regular, but point. The second was the lack of animal urine and sedatives that smothered the top two floors.

What one didn't hear was the rather alarming sounds of feeble whimpering and the bodily scraping of something alive on rubble and concrete.

Mind immediately going to the end of his first week at his brother's clinic, young Parades remembered the strung-out junkie that had broken in. Shallow skin more like paper and stamped with violet veins and broken blood vessels, the soulless stranger was more skeleton than human when they'd found him looting through the supplies for tranquilizer. Alberto had warned him from the very beginning that that sort of thing happened on occasions, but like all cocky youths he'd shrugged the warning off.

Prepared to do whatever had to be done, he quickly scanned the area before going to the pile of rocks that decorated the wicker patio chair that had been placed outside for communal use. No one was quite sure who had gathered all the different stones that dusted the outdoor set, or if they were even still present, but at the moment it didn't matter. So long as he could protect himself and fend off the intruder, the crude weapons could have been left by an angel for all he cared. Ain't no one was gonna mess with his home! Not again.

Used to the layout of the escape from home more than he had been the apartment, the young man didn't have to think twice about which of the stones would be the heaviest. Eyes automatically roaming over the hand-knited chair their aunt had gotten Alberto when he first bought the clinic, the young man didn't skip a beat as he picked up the best possible weapon at his immediate disposal. In fact the only thing he probably did wrong was forget that he could have cried out for help, that his family was more than likely still near enough to hear him.

"I'm armed." Calling out into the windy night chill, he kept his eyes low for a body as he moved a little further away from the door. Too many times he'd been underestimated, and too many times the offending party had paid the price. "If you know what's good for you-"

Half delirious, there was a muffled noise very much like a whimpered plea. Turning to face the source he was prepared to attack, that is, until he saw that it was a wounded woman. Chivalry not dead in his house, he lowered the stone in his hands but didn't quite drop it as he wearily approached the pathetic creature. Just because it was a woman didn't mean that the stranger wasn't dangerous.

Loss of blood leaving her pale as porcelain, the first thing he noticed about the wretch's ragged appearance was that her hair was matted and dark as a black bear in the wild. Only barely hanging in there, a young woman close to his own age reached out with bent fingers stained crimson. Trembling from exposure, he couldn't tell if she was attempting to move herself another inch - give or take - or if that was her way of asking for help. Fragile as a leaf at the end of autumn, tears tracked across cheeks blackened by grit and dust, little white buggers beginning to crust at the corners of her eyes.

Underneath all that grime she might have been pretty (the contrary could have been just as true), but all he saw in that moment was a scared little doe on her own for the first time. Although he deemed her to be no more of a threat than wet paper, he thought that if she'd had the strength, she might have looked half-crazed. And for all he knew, she might have been.


	35. The Slow Kiss Goodnight

**\- Chapter Thirty-Two -**

 **The Slow Kiss Goodnight**

"Sam..." Blinking through the haze clouding her vision, Daniella attempted to raise her head to her savior but was too groggy to do so. If she'd had had the strength, the heiress would have laughed to herself - of course it was her thief.

 **[Nadine Gets Some Long Overdue Answers]**

Fiery fist of fury pounding into the reinforced wall with nary a hairsbreadth between the exposed metal and the wretch's skull, Nadine didn't so much as wince at the contact. The unfortunate scribe she'd found wandering the corridor with a clipboard couldn't say the same as her rough knuckles grazed his whiskery cheek. Reminiscent of an African clawless otter, from the simpering slouch's bearing and appearance it was clear why he'd gone into book-keeping. Hopefully for his own sake he was smart enough to avoid unnecessary conflict and talk.

"I'm only going to ask you once: where is the girl?!" Short on temper as ever, the former mercenary's coolly commanding tone left no doubt that she was good for her word.

Pants unmistakably soiled from the experience, the grunt of the operation was sorely tempted to divulge everything he knew about the situation, but not for the reason one might expect. Sick to death of the Adler heiress and hearing just how much she meant to the immediate future of the gang, once they had actually gotten a hold of her everything had become infinitely more irksome. Tighten security, double shifts, triple them even. While that was all well and fine, Jian hadn't paid much heed to what that meant for accounting, how much creativity and haste they required to pull it off without any warning whatsoever. To be fair he never had paid much mind to that side of the business, which was more than fine with the head accountant.

Too terrified to lie, all he could speak in that moment was the truth. "I don't know. No one knows where she vanished to." So far as his entire department was concerned, twit could stay lost. "After the boss had a private word with her, she had been sent to one of the old offices to cool off and reconsider. Standard procedure, for the wealthy and important." Betraying the greedy, under-handed sleaze that the man was at his core, there was no mistaking which he would put precedence over. "No one ever imagined she would throw herself out the window!"

Throwing one's own self out of the window definitely screamed the exact move either of her parents would have done in the same position. In fact, it had even happened once. Story checking out, Nadine knocked the snitch out cold before flicking on the radio to fill in the others on the current situation. His boss could deal with this one accordingly.

 **[Cause & Effect]**

Bulb flickering shyly as an ordinary housefly skimmed the luminescent surface, the light shinning over the operating table showed the first signs of needing a change. While the brief disturbance was only mildly troublesome, the buzzing insect was downright irritating. Brow covered with sweat and surgical mask weighing soggily at the upper edges, the unlicensed surgeon made a mental note to attend to the matter later. For now there was work of the utmost importance to be done and no one else that could do it! Well, no one else that he trusted...

Falling completely unconscious just after he'd found her, all it took to recognize his unexpected guest as the young woman in the news was a simple brush of the hair. Rather what had happened when he went to move her was that the bearish tangle had fallen out of her bloodless face as he carried the fair maiden down the stairs. No different than lugging around bags of kibble really, at first he hadn't immediately placed her through the grime coating just about every square inch he could see, although it would be lying to say that something hadn't sparked in his brain. A memory, or even a photograph perhaps? Something about her seemed oddly familiar, yet he hadn't properly figured it out until after the patient had been cleaned up for surgery.

Careful of witnesses as he descended with the stranger - including family that, given the timeline, was more than likely still lingering someplace in the building - the young man hadn't seen any other option. Sure, ethically the "right" answer was to bring her to the hospital (and alert her family that she was still alive), but it probably wasn't a coincidence that she was that banged up in this particular part of town. No where would really be safe for the girl, not if those Orange Pusses were on the prowl, so the least he could do was get her a few more minutes.

Well, that was only assuming that he had the same magic ability Alberto had for patching up wounded creatures that couldn't fend for themselves. Having grown up where they had and in the manner in which they did, his medical skill was more than sufficient to get by; really all that was lacking was the degree. All the same, he had never put his skills to use on a human before - not with the intention of _saving_ a life.

"So now we wait." Mumbling to himself as she was still out cold from the preanesthetic sedation - in this case a combination of acepromazine and morphine - the young man began to clear up the empty Telazol container. Though unqualified to actually lend a hand in any of the operations, he'd sat in on Alberto's work more times than he could count, so he was confident in his work. What he was less confident about was that he'd administered the correct amount for something bigger than a dog... and how she would react...

Eyes fluttering wildly below the lid, Daniella slowly began to stir after what felt like an eternity of being underwater. Not immediately aware of her new surroundings or that so much of her skin was exposed, the first thing the heiress' mind registered was that her body felt warmer than it had up on the roof. Warmer _and_ lighter. Like her bones had become hollow and made her weigh less than a feather. _A mermaid with the wings of an angel. Some kind of siren?_ Ugly, scaled, and angry, the picture that bridged dream and consciousness was as nightmare-inducing as the unabridged collection of world lore she'd read at too young a age.

Sunken ice sapphires snapping open like lilies begging for light, the first thing she saw was a splendid hologram glow overhead. _Heaven?_ But she thought that she had decided to live, to find a reason, a way to make her father and ancestors before proud? Well, maybe all of that could come after she'd found a way to make up for her guilt and her shame. Had she died regardless? Giggling from another body and hearing it before she even realized that she had been the one laughing, floating on cloud nine ( _hehe, that was funny. But why nine? Why not eight? Or eleven? Eleven even rhymed with heaven_ ), it seemed plausible. Maybe a good attitude was all it took after all.

Out of nowhere a hand touched her arm, her wrist, her forehead, checking her vitals. At first the young woman's instinct was to flinch away out of fear that she had been captured once more, however her body had been turned to stone; volcanic (because that was the most beautiful in her opinion), the rock that had replaced the flesh was too heavy and too ancient to move. Helpless against the dark-haired angel that stood above, despite not being able to move she realized that she wasn't afraid. Unlike the false divine and his lover, this touch was soft, careful; almost afraid that just a single wrong move might break her into a million pieces. Just like her father had been when she was little.

"Daddy..." If her voice hadn't been robbed by a sea witch and her body turned into living stone, Daniella would have smiled for the first man she had ever loved.

 **[Back in the Precinct]**

Using the fact that all eyes and ears would be on the fight to his advantage, the brunette displayed a surprising amount of pliability by folding himself as close to double as his six feet would allow. Hunched over, thinking small thoughts, and literally holding his breath in order to suck it all in, Sam slithered and slid through the beehive undetected. Every second exposed was a risk, however every millisecond that went by without completing the objective was twice as worse. Nerves one thing, the success or failure of tonight could have meant everything for the future... of his wallet.

Better than good at his craft, on the way out the thief had also managed to grab a small parting gift - however this all ended, with whatever information he uncovered, this whole episode wouldn't feel like a monumental waste. Swiping a manila from the top of one desk and a printed document from another, everything he'd gathered he'd stashed in a single fluid movement. Oh yeah, Sam Drake still had it. And yet somehow the expert pickpocket could imagine that he'd still hear it from the others - cough, cough, Nadine - for not retrieving more intel. True, it would have been great if that opportunity had presented itself, but he was under no obligating to grab shit. Not a damn thing.

Other than the girl, but that was obviously a given.

Tempted to take a little sneak peak at what he'd lifted, there wasn't nearly enough distance between himself and the buzzing drones to risk that biscuit. Having only just put the brain of the beast at his back, there was absolutely no telling how long the brawl would last, let alone how quickly everyone would return to their work as normal. If there was on thing he could honestly say that he'd taken away from his various prison stints, it was that you _ALWAYS_ stay on your guard until the coast was clear.

Weary of random encounters as he neared the front doors of the police station, Sam was so on edge from the adrenaline buzz that he nearly jumped out of his skin when the comms on his person crackled unexpectedly to life. It was Nadine, calling with good news. The best news, even. "We have a lead." There weren't many times that Drake could say it about his partner's partner (or ex-partner's ex-partner, depending when you looked at it), but this was one of those rare time he could have kissed her.

 **[A "Doctor's" Discretion]**

Bandages fresh as the crisp linen sheets the delirious heiress was wrinkling with every muscle spasm and jerk she made, the veterinarian's brother kept his left hand firmly against her sternum. Applying just enough pressure to keep her down (and by extension from pulling the stitches or otherwise causing harm), he seriously contemplated administering the rest of the morphine. More than aware of what the drug was capable of doing to a person, the younger Parades had intentionally given her a low dosage - he was now coming to regret that call.

Movements becoming more predictable but showing no signs that they were slowing, the heiress put on an uneven grimace that might have been meant as a smile. Manageable enough for his nerves, the irksome part was that she began to squirm around, one arm thrust out while the other failed at reaching for his face. Immovable for the most part, her legs shuddered before they too began to roll every which way on the exam table.

Patience ground down to an all time low, the young man gave in to the very human impulse to do the easy thing. Wrong as it was, he gave in fairly easily. Letting go of the upward-pawing creature just long enough to grab the vial on the tray, the remainder of the dosage hit her with a hallelujah chorus only he could hear. Forced into a blissful state too mentally euphoric and physically lethargic to be a burden, the breathing doll sighed in contentment before sinking back into the white. Freed of the task of pinning her, the young man thought about his next move.

Alberto might have understood the situation if he were to come home too early (assuming that the case had clearly been made), but at the end of the day he might have been too good an egg to bring into this one. Cat would have totally understood and bent over backwards to help in any way she could, however she wasn't there. Christ only knew how the rest of the family would have reacted if they caught wind of the fact that the odd one in the family had been discovered with a drugged and badly wounded woman.

No, they couldn't learn of this. Not a one.

Which meant that the lone Parades brother had to relocate the missing heiress. But where to? With the scoundrels from Orange Tiger involved in this ordeal somehow, there wasn't anybody that he could trust with her whereabouts. Even if they had been a freakishly close-knit group, he still wouldn't count any of his neighbors in the helpful column. So far as anyone that might be dependable in the heiress' corner, the only coherent thing he could make out from her muttering was 'daddy'. According to everything he'd heard, Rafe was dead.

...Or was he?

 **[The "A" Team Brings Their "A" Game]**

Word spread far and wide among the mismatched companions that their girl had flown the coop - and in style at that - it hadn't taken long for a new strategy to replace the old one. Exiting the precinct objective number one for those inside, the new goal was to locate and recover the heiress. Another no brainer, Logan and Chloe made short work of agreeing to part ways in the name of scouring the streets. Once able, Nadine would join that effort and widen the net; returning to his roots, Sam would take the high ground.

Claiming that he had been too busy following a hunch to immediately answer the call, once the soldier could finally be bother to check in, Wyatt's only real contribution had been to cause his mother to worry just long enough to let it show. Right, a gut feeling. Sure.

Still searching for a more concrete reason to trust Wyatt than just because he was a friend's child, Sam pounced on asking why the kid hadn't said anything sooner if he thought he'd found something. "A hunch, huh? Why not share that with the rest of the class sooner?" The thief didn't honestly expect a real answer to that, but it was a descent head start towards saying that there was a lack of trust that needed to be handled. One way or another.

Predictably, the soldier had been able to pass it off with a simple excuse, "Why get everyone's hopes up when it might be nothing?"

Like everyone else on the team that had been listening in to the public exchange, Logan had nothing valuable to offer, so he said nothing. Frankly he didn't read a good vibe from the way that Wyatt's answer had deflected Sam's question, however as he wasn't wanted in that world, that wasn't any of his business. No, he was only there because it was wrong to just abandon Dani. To that end, the surfer broke into a brisk jog; mindful of running into Orange Tiger, the blonde figured that posing as a night jogger wouldn't immediately draw unwanted attention.

Not usually one to stay quiet, Chloe privately agreed that there was something fishy about Wyatt not sounding in sooner. But hell if she was going to be the one to say that her best mate's son wasn't on the up and up. More accustomed to playing the spy than any one person should have been, Frazer merely bit her tongue and made a mental receipt of this conversation. Come what may, that was a problem for another day.

 **[** **For Those In Morphine Comas** **]**

Plan in mind, all that was left was to enact it.

Admittedly still somewhat unsure of where he could take the girl that would be safe enough, as he cleared away the rest of the evidence the young man was only certain of one thing: his sole interest was in monitoring the girl. As a child Alberto had taken in all kinds of defenseless and shattered animals to rehabilitate them (and was mostly successful in that endeavorer), so why should this be any different? In the younger brother's mind, it wasn't. Sure, people, strays, and birds required different types of care, but ultimately it was the same thing in effect.

Nigh exhausted from tipping the morally taxing high road, Parades allowed himself a small break once the waste had been disposed of. Turning around to glance critically at the heiress once more, other than the wide clown-like grin stretching her thin unpainted lips, there was no other change to her health. Trained to see deeper than the surface, from the serene way her head was laying it seemed as if she were almost dreaming.

Hopefully for her own sake, miss Adler was able to recall happier times than these. Honestly he couldn't fathom why she would be given to el ángel de la muerte when she was worth so much money, yet there was no mistaking the handiwork. Could it have been that there was no one to pay her ransom, and this was just the Pusses' way of getting back at her? Or was there something more at play than just money? It was no secret (at least not in these parts to anyone with a brain) that the Adler name was synonymous with danger. Could he have just blundered his way into a secret war?

Troubled by the prospect and musing briefly on what he would do if it came down to bloodshed on the open street, it suddenly hit him: why did they have to go anywhere? Obviously staying in the clinic was a no-go, but what was preventing him from keeping the slumbering princesa in transit? As their parents taught them at an early age, a moving target was significantly more difficult to track than an unmoving one.

Added bonus - if he took his brother's van and stashed the girl in the backseat to sleep off the morphine (and other drugs), he could just excuse her as a friend that had drunk too much. No one would question an unconscious woman then. And as for how little she was wearing now, all that needed was a blanket to fix.

Score and score.

Making no promises to his brother nor leaving any notes explaining where he might be, the young hero swiped the keys to the clunky blue van and put them in his back pocket. First checking his phone for any missed calls, he then proceeded to take the itchy gray coverlet he used on particularly cold nights and threw it over the young woman's body. Wrapping his arms tight around her waist as he flung her over his shoulder with a woozy giggle, the duo made their way down the stairs and towards the parking space outside. One of the few good things about this neighborhood was that carrying a drunk home was almost a daily occurrence.

Apartment door locked with some minor difficulty, this time the young man opened the back first; out of it as she was, the heiress' occasional wiggle didn't make his job any easier. Hips swaying like they could tell no lies beneath the blanket, before her head bounced against the hard cushion of the bench-like seat, she beamed once more. Showing teeth this time, her depth perception was so off that she looked like she was seeing something over his shoulder. _Well, at least she's happy and won't feel that until later._

Praying that she remained secure without anything to hold her in place on the drive, he was about to close the door when a fist from out of nowhere nailed him square in his jaw. Mouth full of the coppery taste of blood and face slick with a crimson spurt, it was all he could do to catch himself on the uneven pavement.

"Ok, I know this looks bad-"

Unable to even finish his sentence, the would-be hero was being pulled back up by the front of his shirt. Eyes only able to see the color red after chancing upon the limp form of a girl being smuggled in a rug, the six-foot hitter slugged the little creep once more. Even if this was a whole separate crime and a completely different girl than the one everyone was desperately searching for, this bullshit wasn't going to stand in his book. And neither would the fucker that would do something like this to an innocent child.

"Sam..." Blinking listlessly through the dreamy haze clouding her vision, Daniella attempted to raise her head to her earthly savior but was too groggy to do so. If she'd had had the strength or ability, what she would have saw was an epic beat-down in her name, however, being so doped up all she could do was listen. Only, in her state it didn't sound like a one-sided massacre - what she heard was the older man calling out to her from another castle. The heiress would have laughed to herself - of course it was her thief that had come to her rescue.

Thankfully for the whimpering Parades brother, it was enough to put the confrontation to a pause.

Good thing for him too, because he wasn't sure he could handle much more. Hand going to his head (where most of the blows had landed), the younger of the two men felt the damage as his assailant rushed to check on the girl once he'd realized that she was capable of speech. That'll teach him to do anything for someone ever again...

"Take me home." Half a command and half a plea, the heiress reached out for her real hero. She didn't understand what was going on around her; after all the torture and loneliness, she just wanted to curl up in a nice warm bed. Preferably in the arms of the one person that had been there for her. "Please," tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, "please, Sam."

Against his better judgment he took the frightened child into his arms, grabbing the radio to tell the others the good news as she clutched him for dear life. "I found her."


	36. Neon Animals Of Glass And Soul

**\- Chapter Thirty-Three -**

 **Neon Animals Of Glass And Soul**

A cling peach in heavy syrup, even if the misty-eyed heiress had been capable of feeling anything through the calming, pleasantly pulsating bliss enveloping her every nerve-ending, it would have been impossible to see anything through the fabric of the dark blue shirt she'd buried herself into. Familiar as the scent flooding her nostrils had become in these past few weeks, somehow it wasn't quite right; something was missing, or was just slightly off, however the cognizant part of her brain wrote it off. It had been too long since the last time she'd seen anyone she left behind, and there was a lot of sweat hanging in the air.

Delirium a sweet and funny thing all at once, much like being in a strange between realm that was nether here nor there but everywhere all at once, the vessel her father had inhabited to save her life was speaking odd words. Translated into a wavelength that the puny, limited imagination of mankind could comprehend, it almost sounded like a plea, but her brain must have been scrambling the message wrong. After all, what could an angel possibly need to beg for? All the same, she was intrigued enough to pay some attention to the unfolding legend.

Bright magenta goo drizzling from the corner of his mouth with each and every other syllable, his eyes were never far from her back; intense like smoldering lava, she could feel it even when she wasn't peeking. Once they had even locked gazes, but that had startled her so badly that the heiress quickly retreated back into the cotton ocean. From the sound of it, Sam was really putting him through trial by fire, although she didn't understand why. They had been partners once (a story worth learning more about, to be sure), so there was no need for animosity.

 _Meow_? Lost by the front hubcap and stealing away all her attention, a tiny little kitten with stripes mewled for food, for its mother. Poor thing. Part of her longed to pull away from Sam to find the pitiful baby- after all, who could better understand? - yet how could she when he was all that was safe and warm? _Hmm_ , strong too, if not a bit reluctant to hold her so close.

In a way, it stung that he was putting up an invisible wall.

Concerned for the critter more than her wounded pride, Daniella didn't like the thought of just abandoning it like everyone else had, so she compromised between the unspoken comfort of her thief and doing the thing herself. Anyways, if her father was still around it had to be for a reason, right? "Daddy, the kitty!" Slurring her words around a tongue that suddenly felt overly thick and vaguely serpentine, she moved her head enough to be heard, "Daddy, you gotta find the kitty!"

Exchanging a look of matching confusion, both her father and her protector had no clue how to respond to the request, which left her with no other foreseeable option. Hesitant to move too far away from the one place that had offered consistent safety up until that point, the heiress knew deep down - someplace secret and buried - that the kitten needed to be rescued.

Braver to think it in the mind than to actually act, even though doubt and insecurity nibbled on the fringes just out of sight, there was no escaping the cold realization that she had to be the one to do it. Fine. Or... well, she had to at least try... Terrified of letting go even though she'd been on the verge of doing the same not that long ago, she knew she had to. She had to. Emboldened by the presence of support surrounding her, the young woman made up her mind - if her father could chase his fortune and his fate, she could too. Body swaying to a beat that no one could hear, Daniella forced herself to stand.

Hardest part over (hopefully), she stumbled more than once as she shoved the arms of her thief off. Only looking back at Sam once, she moved to stand by her father, as was her rightful place. Offering the saint her most fetching and sincere smile not nearly enough, she shakily attempted to put her hand over his shoulder only to miss horribly and bring them both crashing down into the pavement. Landing on a sandy beach - in fact it just might have been the first time she'd seen the sea in person - the girl threw her arms around her dad's neck and laid there like they had all the time in the world. Only they didn't, did they? Sadness creeping in like a chill, the young woman stared deep into his eyes.

"I love you, Daddy."

What happened next wasn't planned, but it felt like the right thing to do.

 **[Boys and Kitties]**

Genuinely at a loss for words as the realization slowly settled in that this whole ordeal was basically over and done with, something in his brain still didn't want to believe it. Face splattered with crimson and knuckles shinning scarlet in the sparse light of the empty parking lot, the evidence was all over his person. Speaking of persons, the only thing keeping his wrath at bay was the girl attaching herself in a similar manner of a parasite. Eyes glaring daggers over her shoulder at the culprit, it was still taking every ounce of willpower in his six feet to not set the young woman aside to finish what he'd started.

But he knew that he should still save some for the others once they arrived. After all, he wasn't the only one with a horse in this race.

Ribs nailed once or twice in the surprise assault, young Parades had had his bones broken, cracked, and reset enough times to realize that he was lucky most of the blows had been aimed at his face. Told by a few interested parties in his time that he could have been good-looking if he smiled more, the young man wasn't really phased by what this would do to his appearance. If anything, a permanent reminder of tonight might have even been beneficial to his work. Hell, if even one more person would take him seriously, he'd count this experience as a positive one.

All the same, at present there was a misunderstanding to be addressed. Judging solely from the borderline intimate way the heiress was trying to vanish into the stranger with the mean right hook, it wasn't exactly rocket science to surmise that this lughead wasn't Orange Tiger. Unless she was truly that far gone, in which case he was thoroughly screwed. Going with the hopeful assumption that that wasn't the situation, the young man approached with peace and ration, "I'm just a bystander in all this. I found her bleeding out and near-death on my roof, so I patched her up in my brother's clinic."

Prompted by a dizzy glance up and a finger that had been grazed in the fall, Daniella's latest hero conceded to give the breathing pulp this one chance to explain himself. Indeed there was a sign for a vet posted on the window outside the front office. "That don' prove shit." Panting as the effort caught up with him, he'd have guessed that his own mama wouldn't recognize his voice at that moment. "You coulda seen that sign just now."

Fair enough. If you ignored the fact that the van he'd been trying to transport the young woman in carried the same name, and that the keys were still hanging out of the back door lock. Not far from where the same girl was clutching her savior for dear life now. Except bringing that up didn't seem too bright when they'd met fist-first. "Lift up the blanket then. Look at her body and tell me I didn't stitch her back up."

Contemplating doing just that, they were both nothing short of surprised by the sudden cry of "Daddy, the kitty!" Getting the gist of what was being said through the lethargic slur numbing her tongue, from the active and heartfelt way she struggled to make herself heard, it was clear that she was passionate. Passionate about what neither understood, however Parades had some clue what she was getting on at when she called him daddy. Because a recent kidnap victim using the words 'daddy' and 'kitty' in the same sentence looked so good. Especially in front of the lover...? "Daddy, you gotta find the kitty!"

Mortified at how the other, older man was going to take her drugged delusions, the surgeon's face was a perfect mirror to what was going on inside his head at that moment.

 _And it was only going to get worse..._

 **[A Woman's Touch]**

Unceremoniously greeted by the sight of a dark-haired young woman being lifted bodily from some stranger she'd never seen before, the former mercenary had to remind herself that that was Rafe's baby girl. Bai had never truly approved of anyone that wasn't Rafe being around the little tyke, however Rafe never so much as batted an eye when she interacted with Daniella. Ja, they hadn't crossed paths often enough to have formed any sort of bond, but that didn't mean that Nadine hated the kid. In fact, she actually hadn't minded the little girl; one night they had even sat up together while her mum and dad were sorting things out (not that mum was any wiser).

Either way, it was surreal seeing the girl now that was almost a grown woman in her own right.

Serene and oh-so-trusting, the icy-eyed multibillionaire's female replica had not only allowed herself to be picked up, but she also curled into the arms of her reluctant protector after she was back on her own two feet. Heartbreakingly vulnerable (at least it would have seemed that way to anyone with a remotely romantic streak), a smile graced her features despite the uncomfortable way he kept trying to edge away from her. Oh that poor confused thing!

On the poorly lit scene prior to anybody else that got the call, using the instructions provided Nadine hadn't arrived a moment too soon. Approaching slowly as to not upset the child, the woman made closer note of the third party to better assess the situation. Bloodied up something good and wide-eyed from the girl's... enthusiasm... there was every tell of a case of mistaken identity. Trained to keep cool under pressure and take in every possible detail - not that it had necessarily sunken in - the ex-soldier gathered that the kid had been in the middle of trying to help the heiress out when things got out of hand.

What she couldn't figure out was why the girl was half-naked in the cold.

"Okay, what's wrong with the blood orange down there?" Popping up just behind Nadine with all the stealth of a feline, Chloe understood why the girl was prancing around in her underthings from a single gander at the nicks and cuts lacing her lean frame. What she failed to fathom was why their new friend was just sitting there like a lump on his rump.

Both boys answered her with a single look that said it was a long story. Technically junior mint had squeezed out that 'don't ask, don't tell' type of wince when prompted, and tootsie pop half-frowned, half-scowled, giving the impression that he'd just rather not talk about it. That is, if he could help it. Alrighty then.

Noticing the two women a full minute after her companions had (and not only because she was smothering herself half that time), a overtly friendly and chipper Daniella beckoned them over. "Miss Chloe! You found me too!" Due to how uncomfortably close she had been making herself to her hero-thief, the heiress had met almost no resistance when shambling off to welcome her friend... and her friend...? Paying no mind to the fact that she had no clue who the other woman was, the young woman introduced herself with a long-lost friend sort of hug and a chaste kiss on the cheek. "You seem nice."

Chloe, on the other hand, received a scorching hot salutation.

Slight unrequited girl-crush a distinct possibility (well, before the whole getting her kidnapped thing), the getaway driver had no idea what to expect from the young woman, but considering her exceptionally good mood, Frazer hadn't been too worried. Nadine - who for all intents and purposes was a complete stranger - had gotten a more than cordial how-do-you-do, so if that was the standard, the dark-haired beauty was most likely in for something similar. Probably just a quick peck, no different than family.

Nope. Daniella went full into it.

Onyx irises meeting almost pure pupil the instant before their lips crashed together, the only things the older woman could taste was blood and her partner's shallow breathing. _Not bad, but she should thank her lucky stars she's not in her right mind._ Greedy by nature, the more experienced of the two wanted to take all of her breath away before knocking her flat on her ass, however the thief knew that was wrong, so she refrained from the urge to dominate the embrace. But Chloe didn't reject the kiss - not straight away at least. Ending with one hand on one cheek, she broke away slowly, giving the girl enough time to blink and become distracted by the arrival of the rest of the team.

 **[A Reunion From The Wrong Angle]**

Sam Drake knew a good many words in a good many languages, but when he and Wyatt joined the others at the site Logan specified, none of them seemed remotely adequate to even come close to describing what he saw. Pure spectacle that only happened once in a great while, there was a limb thrust out, thrashing wildly; who it belonged to was another question altogether (and frankly he didn't want to know the answer). Similar in several ways to the red-hot mess a overly eager virgin on prom night was, unless his eyes were deceiving him in his advanced age, Dells had gone full facehugger.

"Alright, show's over!" Unsure of who had arrived in what order, as the last one there Drake only knew that they had all seen more happen than him - that wasn't going to stand.

Completely missing the soldier as she was yanked away from Chloe with concerned force, Daniella blinked at Sam with blurry vision that had every likeness to a kaleidoscope. Two, three, how many of the brunette was there? Much? Were? Peering back over her shoulder at where the first Sam moved to greet the other three adventurers, she thought to herself that this was probably better. Everything felt great, and so this was her one chance to share the feeling. Also Mama was always nicer the morning after she had guests over, and even her professor championed that two was better than one. But could the world really handle more than one Sam Drake?

Notion as interesting as it was perplexing, she shook her head of the neon demons. It didn't matter how many there were, because the young woman would thank them all until he knew how grateful to him that she was. This was just the first way (and what he'd appreciate most). "Don't worry," using a broken copy of the seductive voice Jay liked so much, she put a splinted finger to his lips, "I didn't forget about you. My hero."

Hero? Well that was a bit much when he hadn't really done much of anything this time, but hell if he was going to correct her. "Hey, Dells."

Lost for a moment as to what all had transpired before he'd gotten there, it hadn't taken much more than a single glance to tell that the spare had played doctor (although to what end remained to be seen), that Logan had lucked into the role of brave knight in shining armor. Somewhere in all that mess, Chloe and Nadine had shown up. Caught up to speed with everything worth knowing, what interested the thief wasn't what had happened but what was about to go down. _And come off?_

Kiss more than earned in his mind, Sam could care less if they watched her make a move on him; everyone accused him of being the instigator, but this way his hands would be clean. Well, clean-ish.

Puckered up as she leaned forward (and a hair heavenward), the heiress closed her eyes as moment approached, as he approached. At least a hundred times more nervous than she had been that first time with Jay, the memory of crying in Sam's arms when she thought she'd lost her mother came to mind. Even now she's had no idea how she'd managed to wiggle out of her clothes, but at some point that night she had. Once she kissed him on her own volition, would that mean he'd see her like that again? Half dressed, frightened, alone, and desperate?

Was that something she wanted?

"Dells..." Muttering her name into the less than five percent of space between them, volume soft enough for only her to hear, before he knew what had happened she landed against his chest with a gentle thump. Of course karma would rear its ugly head the instant he had made to return the gesture. Signing to himself at the latest hand he'd been dealt, the ex-con scooped his sleeping beauty into his arms, retrieved the blanket hanging out the open door to preserve what was left of her modesty, and wrapped her tight.


	37. Wave At Those Moments As They Pass

**\- Chapter Thirty-Four -**

 **I Love To Wave At Those Moments As They Pass By**

Rain gone away for the afternoon to make room for a watery sun, the forecast promised brighter days to come. And that wasn't just a cheesy metaphor. Wind far from done hassling the coast-side city, the only exceptional sound outside was the occasional gust that whistled against the sturdy oak windows of the second story and above. Inside, the noise most predominate over the usual clatter was the television running a newscast a room over. The mystery disappearance of the Adler heiress was still receiving some play, however it was no longer the most pressing issue to receive coverage.

Elbow crooked behind his neck for support, the worn figure on the sofa had slipped off for a light nap after a tiring day of making preparations to leave the city. Usually his guy (well, in this case Heather) was generous enough to handle all the details up until the minute of departure; his money was on this having something to do with her sister. The woman insisted that it was just giving him something to do while he waited for his companion to be in moving condition, but frankly he had his doubts. Fair enough it was understandable why it wouldn't do to smuggle the heiress while she was out of it, so the concern was legitimate on paper, but he was skeptical that that was her only motivation.

Meanwhile, snug as a bug in the humble bedroom and twisted up in the threadbare sheets like she hadn't been alone the entire time, Daniella was beginning to wake up from her prolonged rest. Out of commission for the better part of two full days, more than one of her visitors swore that she looked like she had woken up for a moment or so throughout. The newly acquired on-staff doctor thought that might have been possible medically, although he wasn't exactly much more knowledgeable than the next guy. Nadine had a theory that the first day was for the body to process the drugs and the more physical aspects of her ordeal, and everything that came after was to nurse the psychological side. Seemed plausible.

Eggshell white and just as opaque, the curtains were thick enough to soften the light filtering into the room but not obscure it entirely. Having seen Angel's sicko work space for himself, frankly Sam thought it would cushion the blow if she found herself someplace that was even mildly well-lit (he'd even kept the lamp on the nightstand on). Actually to that end, he'd argued for keeping someone posted by her side at all times; that particular arrangement ended when his replacement caught him sharing the bed earlier that morning. He'd been on top of the blankets, yet that made no matter to the former mercenary who chewed him a good one on the spot. The historian supposed that she made a decent point about what the girl would think if she woke up to someone sharing the bed with her, especially after her brief stint as the kissing bandit.

Morphine didn't usually make a person act like that, at least not that any of them had ever known of, so another popular theory floating around was that there was just something in the young woman that was excited by the euphoric state induced by the medicine. Considering who mom and dad were, neither he nor Nadine questioned that one too extensively.

Billionaires allowed to sleep their lives away since they already had everything they could ever want, at the current rate it was taking Sleeping Beauty to wake up, Sam hadn't figured catching a few winks would be much of a problem. Dells was out cold the last time he checked on her - which was pretty much the minute he'd returned from 'interviewing' a captain to give them a ride out of the state - and everyone else was off doing their own thing. Why should a nap hurt anything?

Expecting too much (or more accurately too little) out of a girl that cried almost as much as she slept, the brunette hadn't counted on the young woman catching him off his guard.

Rousing gradually from a deep slumber eerily akin to death, everything hurt and she had no inkling of how long she had been out this time. Eyes stubbornly closed as she turned away from the light, Daniella didn't want to wake up from the dream she'd been having; the more she clung on, the faster it was fading, although her anchor point was as vibrant as it had been when she was living that life. It had been such a good dream, and the more that she came to, the more afraid she was of what she'd find waiting for her.

Memory cruel enough to make her relive the steel kisses, it occurred to her that the darkness in that torture chamber would likely stick with her as long as the scars would, if not longer. Everything that happened afterwards was a blur in comparison, although there were a few things that had a certain kind of clarity to them... meeting her intended, jumping out of that window...

And Sam. Struggling to make sense of it, something about that last recollection felt fuzzy, as if it too were another unreal flight of fantasy she'd dreamt up. Ultimately it had to have been, because there was absolutely no way that they could have come so close to... to... Ugh, just thinking the words made her flush with embarrassment. There was no universe where it was remotely possible. ...Right?

Excited to the point of being flustered over it, her stomach rolled over on itself, gut shifting around at the idea. Daniella supposed that she would have to just boil down to basics and talk to him about what had all happened. Unless... As she laid there in her self-made cocoon, it occurred to the young woman that she might be back in Jian's custody. Raw ache from the razors ripping through her all over again, the marks still obvious on her body as well as in her psyche, her hand traced along a ridge criss-crossed with thread.

Sighing in defeat, she reluctantly opened one eye and then the other.

Peachy striped walls, instantly forgettable ecru decor, fake ferns scattered by the window and on top of the dresser, this was definitely another hotel room. Was that a good sign? Jian easily could have realized that they had gotten off on the wrong foot and this was his way of attempting to make amends. Not that that would work now. According to her mother, there might have been another party after her as well, and since they were being founded by proper business types, this could have been them just as easily. But the first place she had met Sam was at his hotel room, so maybe this was him after all? Looking around at the simple furnishings, noting that there was only the one bed, she still couldn't tell for sure.

Not knowing worse than the speculation, Daniella pushed herself to rise, to poke around to figure out if she was in the company of friend or foe. Climbing out of the bed with the protesting throbs of her entire body (seriously, under ordinary circumstances, a hot bath would be divine), the heiress found herself garbed in a hotel robe, and not a very comfortable one at that. In no fit state to dress herself in these lost hours, clearly someone had changed her while she'd been out of it, and she had no idea who it had been or if that was all that had happened.

Hand sliding across her collar bone to the curve of her shoulder, her fingers happened to brush against a simple strap. Too scared to see what she might find under the robe (or what she wouldn't), the young woman felt around blindly to discover underwear that rode all the way up to her navel and a bra that was a smidgen too small. Crossing both arms protectively across her chest, she suddenly felt less than clean.

Forgetting to look around the rest of the room for clues because she was too upset at the idea that anything could have happened to her, the heiress went straight for the door. Apparently left ajar for just this scenario, happily it swung wide open with the slightest of prompts; at least that meant she wasn't being confined to just a single room. Feeling only slightly relieved by that break, she gingerly traipsed down the two-door hall until she found herself in a tiny living space as unremarkable as her room. TV on, the first thing she saw was Sam crashed out on the couch.

 _Thank god!_

Joy flooding the same channels as relief in that instant, a pair of young knees buckles as every other part broke down. She was safe! She was safe. Maybe that was only going to be a temporary state of being, but she wasn't looking ahead to the future, not at that time. Right then, her only concern was her only goal, and that was to be as close to the thief as she possibly could get.

At first that entailed squatting on the floor by the couch, however that wasn't nearly enough to assuage the nearly deafening roar of anxiety, so another course of action was in order. No different from a small child plagued by nightmares, the heiress required more comfort and protection than mere proximity could deliver. Self-positioning as the small spoon, Daniella wrapped his arms around her waist and shoulders, snuggling in until she could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

 **[A Few Hours Later...]**

Infomercial yapping on in the background when he finally woke up, the first thing the brunette registered was that his arms were snaked around a smaller body. Warm and smelling almost familiar underneath the hotel soap, Drake pulled the feminine figure closer to his chest before realizing who it was he was spooning. Having drifted off for a short bit after a story about some celebrity divorcing from another, Daniella was nearly as surprised as Sam was before she remembered crawling on top of him. Thankfully for the pair, being the more experienced of the two he was the first to recover.

"Hey, Dells." Voice thick from sleep and still fighting off a calm drowse, he wouldn't complain if this was still just a dream. At least then he wouldn't have to think about the last time he spoke to her royal highness.

Groaning at the unwelcome return to reality, the young woman brought her forehead down into his chin. Comfortable enough to fall back asleep if he let them, she was more than prepared to just end the day on a good note for a change. Of course fate - being the mega epic ultra bitch that it was - would do everything in its power to prevent that if given even the slightest opportunity. Was one day really too much to ask for after everything she'd gone through lately? Apparently it was.

Left just enough space to mumble into the rift between an off-white v-neck and the birds flying free on his throat, she began the surrender to a force she had no hopes of beating. Like ever. "Mr. Drake."

Still? Considering everything they had already been through in proximity to one another, that hurt on a level. "Enough with the mister stuff, Jesus. It makes me feel old."

Head bobbing meekly in mute agreement, the young woman figured that by this point she really ought to just dispense with the formalities, however, for whatever reason she was still finding it difficult to do just that. Utterly ridiculous in the scheme of things she knew, it was a defensive wall built solely because she was frightened of what could happen once they had suspended all sense of distance and decorum.

Not about to complain about waking up to a pretty face, Sam wasn't above bemoaning the fact that absolutely nothing had led to landing in that position. Not even a parting gift from the kissing bandit in what was likely a one-time appearance. Unfortunate as that had been, perhaps this little stunt was the girl's way of telling him that it was okay to pass go and collect his prize. Seriously, was it really so crazy to think that she had inherited the subtlety her parents so blatantly scorned?

Worrying over what could have came from the change of dynamic, the young woman hadn't immediately realized what was happening in the present. Or rather, where hands that weren't her own were working towards. Mind racing back to the fact that she was no longer in the torn-up rags her clothes had undoubtedly become after that window stunt alone, Daniella had to question if this familiarity was because he had been the one to replace the garments. Positively mortified at the notion of the thief seeing her completely and utterly exposed, she could feel her cheeks burning.

"Sorry, I just..." struggling to find the right way to explain herself, she suddenly became very mindful of how their bodies were positioned. Melded together and of close enough heights to always be within arms reach, there was virtually no breathing room between the pair. Boiling down to what she wanted, what she truly desired, the young woman could have let the groping take its natural course, or, she could have made him very sorry for ever touching her. "Sam just seems so... intimate."

Cold to the handful of cheap terry and cheek he was feeling, Daniella hadn't slapped him away, but she hadn't exactly given any signal that she wanted him to carry on either. Accustomed to his potential dance partners either throwing themselves at his feet or basically giving him the one-finger send-off, it had been some time since Drake had had to tread the middle ground. Was it residual effects from the morphine killing her mood? Because given her behavior towards him up until that point it seemed unlikely that she would suddenly become so damn indifferent.

Able to tell that he was unwanted, Sam conceded and removed his hand. "I get it. Don't worry, I won't hold my breath for the invitation to your sweet sixteen."

Older than that by a fair amount, the heiress could tell that she had hit him where it hurt. Dammit, why should she have to feel bad about wounding his pride when he would probably drop her the instant the check cleared? But she did. Sitting up and taking a perch at the edge of the bland khaki couch, the young woman made it her responsibility to make him understand why she was being so standoffish. "I didn't mean to... I'm just..."

"Go on." Prompting the girl to open up, the brunette mimed her movement and also took a semi-vertical position. Although unlike his ward, he made himself comfortable like a normal person.

"This hasn't exactly been a picnic. For all I know I could be anywhere, anything could have happened to me while I was unconscious, anyone could have put me in..." Daniella interrupted herself because she didn't want to revisit that train of thought; fingers reaching into the robe for a strappy little thing that only Chloe would have brought, the thief gathered where she was going with that last one. "Growing up, everyone used me or died, or even both. So I tried to keep them away. But I don't want that... I want friends that I can count on. Like you and miss Chloe have. That probably sounds like the stupidest thing you've ever heard, but would love it if I could say that I have one person in this world that I can truly depend on."

Definitely barking up the tree if that was what she wanted, Drake wasn't that guy. Chloe maybe, Logan most probably (assuming that his wife allowed it), but not Sam. Hell, she'd probably have a better chance with that new guy than she would with him. "That's not me." And then it dawned on him why she couldn't make up her mind about letting it happen between them. "But you already figured that out."

Was it so obvious that that was why she was so afraid of giving him leeway? If he could see that, then was there any further use for pretense? "I don't want to be alone, Sam."

Touched and almost glowing that she finally used his name in a casual setting, all joking aside he couldn't blame her for being terrified of that. Especially not after seeing what the Orange Tiger Association was capable of. "For a generous fee, I think we can work something out." As good as a promise from a thief could be, he was even willing to throw in a clause about giving her a few other things as well, but they could always iron that out when they wrote up the imaginary contract. "To be clear, this doesn't mean we're going to be friends once my job is done."

Better than she could hope for, something in the heiress believed that he would honor his word about keeping her safe - after all, he already had this far.

"Even from myself?" Okay, so maybe it was a tiny bit evil to make him promise that just to turn around to manipulate the situation, but there were worse things she could do.

Capable of maintaining some sense of composure while there was someone there to keep supervision over her - more specifically to keep kidnappers at bay - at least for the time being the young woman knew that she was in no condition to be left alone. Which was actually kind of a personal problem, as nothing sounded better than a nice hot bath. Between having no clue how long it had been since the last time she'd had a proper cleaning and it just sounding like the thing she needed most, Daniella was loathe to admit it. Yeah, even after all of that she still didn't want to think about how her fear of being alone was going to make that situation work.

Negotiating this soon after a traumatic experience and unplanned surgery? Her parents would have been proud if they could see their little girl now. Or maybe not, judging from the way her face had reddened to put a Christmas tree ornament to shame. "Why, is there a problem?" Honestly Sam was quite proud of his ability to feign innocence, especially when it could be used to torment another.

"No! Yes. ...Kinda." Twiddling her fingers and avoiding direct eye contact, the heiress mumbled under her breath, "I need a bath..."

Actually she really didn't - the instant the room had been rented, Nadine and Chloe had both made it their personal mission to see to it that the heiress was cleaned and dressed. That first night they put her into something light to allow the stitches to breath, but the girl kept finding a way out of it, so they had finally given up and just gave her some underwear and a robe for modesty's sake. Point was, with the young surgeon's help they had washed the girl.

In short the demand had nothing with being clean and everything to do with feeling comfortable in her own skin. So in other words, it wasn't really necessary. Not a hundred percent anyways, but after seeing what those psychos had done, it was the least he could do for her. "Whatever you need."

Jealous of Chloe for obvious reasons, it may have slipped his mind to tell Dells that if she waited long enough, someone else more preferable might show up to lend a hand.

"Oh," acting as if he only just remembered, the historian generously cleared up a little something in return for the gapping slit that appeared in the robe when she stood, "you have Chloe to thank for your upkeep." And Nadine, but it was clear who the real brains behind that operation was.

Once in the bathroom, there was a rare moment when the ex-con offered to do the right thing and just stand guard outside the door while she stewed, but the girl wasn't having it. Genuinely terrified of what they hadn't spoken about just yet, he could see by the look in her eyes that this wasn't some needless attempt at seducing him. Daniella had experienced true evil, and she didn't feel capable enough to stand on her own yet. Maybe she never would, but that wasn't his concern.

Water scalding and brimming with bubbles after a few uncomfortable moments of awkwardly staring at one another, the first thing off had been the bra. Back to Sam and left arm crossed firmly against her chest as she entered the tub (the right used for balancing purposes), the underwear had only come off after she was hidden beneath the frothy layer of lavender-scented foam. He had to hand it to her for being so adamant about hiding her body from prying eyes. At this point it was pretty much a wasted effort when half the crew had seen her in her birthday suit, but damn if she wasn't trying anyways.

Concerned with Sam catching anything she wasn't ready for him to see, she even covered herself to the best of her ability the few times she submerged herself.

"How long was I out?" Shampoo running down the back of her neck from the knot she'd sculpted at the crown, it was clear from her tone that she wasn't looking forward to having this conversation. Braver than he would have given her credit for, it was admirable that she had broached the topic on her own to get it out of the way.

Assuming he meant since they retrieved her, the thief made himself busy with the yellow submarine painting behind the toilet. It was nothing special, but the little slice of goodness in his heart was telling him it wouldn't be good to just stare at the heiress. Even if she was secretly harboring the hope that he would. "Two days."

That long? In a shocking twist that actually wasn't so horrible. Not the best, but all things considered it really could have been so much longer. "I see. So where is everyone?"

He could see that she was still dancing away from certain aspects of the situation, aspects that would need to come up sooner or later. Smirking at the wall before twisting around enough to face the girl as he teased her, Sam figured that he could oblige that one. "Why, waiting to see how much longer you'll have me all alone?" Ducking down into the water at the accusation, he could tell that she was definitely blushing. "All you have to do is ask me nicely, and I'll be right there in that tub with you."

Face on absolute fire, she squirmed beneath the surface of the water. "I... That's not why I asked you here..."

Enjoying just how much that got to her royal majesty, the grin on the thief's face grew - surely it would only be a matter of time now. "Relax. I'm just pulling your leg." Although he really would just jump in if she gave him the green light. "Logan's probably off somewhere he can get in touch with his wife, and Chloe's with Nadine, sorting out some last minute details." Which in this case meant they were out getting clothes for the heiress. "Your new doctor friend is probably in his room, and who knows where Wyatt is."

Logan was still hanging around? That was honestly a bit of a surprise to hear. But more importantly, "Who? And who?" Also, what doctor had she met recently? He couldn't have been referring to Angel. No way!

Right, girlie had missed the epic team-up her abduction had made possible. "Nadine Ross. A total pain in my ass, we go way back..." all the way to when Rafe died as it were, but saying that just now seemed cruel. Dells worshiped her father for whatever twisted reason, so if he just blurted out their history, there was no telling how she would react to the former mercenary. Or what that would do to his chances of getting into her pants. "Nadine's an old friend of your father's. They were partners before-"

"Before he died." Finishing his sentence for him, Daniella thought back to everything she could remember about that time in her life. Not a whole lot, it turned out. "So this doctor friend? And Wyatt, you said?"

Wyatt was easy. "Between you and me, frankly I don't trust him. Little punk's Nadine's son, so we're all walking a fine line there, but he hasn't done himself any favors and made any friends." Coking his head, he turned to look at Daniella for no real reason in particular. Again, he took a little too long gandering in her direction, but the coat of bubbles kept him from seeing anything she wanted to stay hidden. "You really don't remember the doctor? According to him, he found you on the roof of his brother's clinic and patched you up while you were out."

That would explain the stitches. "I should thank him then."

"Probably." Wow, this was probably the longest conversation that they'd ever had (possibly that she had ever had, period). Honestly a little amazed to learn that Dells wasn't her parents after all, more than gloat over the fact that his office defense was right, he realized that he was still gawking. Nothing left to say on the matter of the doctor, Sam turned back around.

Cluing in to the fact that his gaze was lasting longer than it should have, the heiress was quiet for a few moments as she set about scrubbing the few spots on her body that weren't lifted from a modern retelling of Frankenstein. Coming to the one spot she couldn't reach by herself, the heiress peered sideways at the brunette. Earlier he honestly had seemed interested in looking at the few decorations in the room, but now it appeared that he was trying too hard to not eye the tub.

"Can you get my back, please? I hardly ever feel finished without..." Hearing the words out loud, the blush came creeping back, "Oh. Yeah, maybe just ignore that last part..."

"I could do that, but where's the fun in that?"

Had anyone else at all been in that bathroom at the moment, they would have accused him of taking advantage, but he had to disagree - Daniella had made her choice. Either way a part of him was going to think about all the ways that this could have gone in his favor, yet he was the good one in the situation, the one that hadn't instigated anything. Sam was the good one here.

Making her rue ever asking him for this favor, the thief took the sponge she hesitantly offered and got down on his knees with a chorus of creaking joints. At least the citrus-y bristles provided some cushion. And bless her, the young woman had even pretended not to notice; it didn't matter though, because she was still on his list.

Wincing at first from how hard the washrag came down on her shoulders, once they found a beat that worked everything was fine. "Thank you." Gratitude sincere, she shivered behind a veil of steam as his pinky brushed the hole drilled through the pale flesh, "It's still a little tender." Disturbed by the motion, wet ebony strands of coffee fell between her shoulderblades, however she was quick to pull the hair out of his way.

Basically a topographical map that would only heal partially (at best), he scrubbed in a circular motion, slowly working down lower to where she couldn't reach by herself. It was nice; in fact it was so nice, she felt her mind begin to wander off and imagine what would happen if he took it even lower. Biting her lip and hoping that he missed the momentary lapse of judgment, she brought her thighs as close together as they could get and wrapped her hand around her knees before pulling them toward her chest.

Voice cracking, Daniella suddenly wished that she had opted for an ice cold bath instead. "That's fine, thanks."

Chloe may have just been teasing her back in the car, but it had been a while since the young woman had had a proper minute to herself. Body wiggling impatiently below the surface, her hormones weren't going to be able to take it for much longer. So what pray tell was she supposed to do? Anxious and doing her best to not break down completely, the heiress wasn't ready to be left alone just yet, but could she really do something like that with someone else in the same room? Well, somebody besides Jay...

Just about as antsy as the girl was from all the tension, Sam was honestly thinking about helping her clean more than just her back. If he moved the cloth slowly around her waist and followed the shape of her hips down, she would have had ample time to stop him if she really didn't want to pursue that avenue... And he saw her holding back, so he knew he wasn't crazy for entertaining the notion. Only thing preventing him being the fact that she was so vulnerable, that the trauma was still fresh enough to see, there was also himself to think about. The dry spell had lasted long enough, and he promised himself that he would break a piece of that off the first chance he got.

Acutely aware that he hadn't removed the soapy rag from her lower back just yet, it was sorely tempting to take him by the wrist and lead it towards another place she could use a hand. _So! Tempting!_ But... if she did that then it wouldn't be fate but herself to blame...

Consequence set, surely even the guy holding the pen would have to ask how it had all come to this.


	38. Body Language

**\- Chapter Thirty-Four (and A Half) -**

 **Body Language**

 **[Body - actions and reactions]**

Fingers tentatively slipping and sliding around the unguarded small of her back, as his path cut through the diminishing suds in a trail of house-brand soap, Sam could feel himself beginning to rise in anticipation. Reminding himself to take care with the young one, the motions riding her slender hipbones allotted a literal moment of silence for the virginity she would be shedding. _This was going to be it_ , with victory's sweet blessing all but certain at that point, he just knew it in his bones, in the absolute deepest part of his very core.

Reveling in the semi-formed moan that escaped below the disguise of a hitch in her breathing, the thief hadn't imagined baby girl shuddering from the base of her spin when he made his move. Nor had he misread the reflexive jerk her knee made when his intent became transparent as the moral in a children's book. Sponge simultaneously rising to the surface as his knuckles grazed the jut of her hip bone, the entirety of his palm became wet with a second, sharper gasp.

Every sign was there that her body wanted it just as bad as his did, that it knew what was happening as soon as the thoughts came into his head, and it was all before the rest of her caught on.

Shy of the infamous point of no return, Sam paused himself before he did anything he couldn't take back. Innocence on the verge of being being called into question, physically she may have been rearing to go but emotionally the girl wasn't prepared to accept what he was offering. _Dammit._

Once she realized that Sam had stopped dead in his tracks Daniella peered deep into his crinkled steely blues. _There was a little bit of brown in the light flecks, just behind the part that wants me to think._ But think about what?

Pulse alive in a place that had no business being thought of in polite company, the heiress could only feel the eager radiation as it spread outwards. Tingling deep, each wave of the the beating murmur grew more demanding and more desperate for action, all while robbing logic and replacing it with an urge she would not name aloud. His action, her own, the madness stirring within was caring less and less with each second it was ignored.

Hot enough to boil a lobster for dinner, the lavender water had eased the majority of her hurts; so long as it involved avenues that had already been explored, in the young woman's mind there was nothing that would be too much. Unless Sam's shy friend (who really wasn't all that shy it would turn out) decided to play conventional, then there might be a few things that could cause concern if it came down to that...

Practically on fire herself, the bolder Daniella that had yet to be fully explored didn't think she'd mind all that much if the thief did want to take it that far.

More than ready to take matters into her own hands if he didn't act soon, it would have been lying to say that there wasn't a silvery-blue peek in the older man's direction. White shirt sticking close from steam and sweat and maybe even a few stray drops that had somehow hit him, it was what was happening below his jeans that had caught her attention. Not that a lady would ever dare dream act on such an impulse as that...

 _Mama would roll in her grave._

Warm as a fire could get without searing off the flesh and aching deep inside, the thief was reminded how uncomfortable women in corsets must have felt. Restraints torture - yes, he was still going to use that exact word under the circumstances - Sam could have sworn that her eyes had softened just enough to implore him. Just like so many married women he'd known in the past.

Debating whether or not he had to talk her into going along with it or if that look had been her form of consent, the brunette used the hand that wasn't about to slide the bright young girl some skin to support himself against the tub. Far from kind on the knees, he had a new-found appreciation for anyone to take a similar position for an extended period of time. As for the heiress herself, Drake offered some comfort to see if he couldn't warm up those feet.

"We can take this as slow as you need." Smolder enough to destroy a weaker woman well before this point, the thief knew exactly what he was doing when he smiled at his partner.

 _Need._ It sure felt like she needed to do something about the feeling in her loins, but then again she had once been fooled into believing that she needed to help her professor in a similar fashion.

If this was going to happen in any capacity, it was probably only right that Sam know about Jay, that she wasn't completely uncharted territory. Head, shoulders, knees, toes, and _everything_ in between, she could feel it in her marrow that something was going to transpire. It had to after this build-up.

Actions louder than words ever could be, the heiress gave herself over to the bold streak and brought his wrist from where it was lingering near her thigh. Bashfully closing her eyes, the young woman deliberately brought her lips together and kissed the inside of his wrist before replacing his hand on her waist. Hopefully he'd get the clue that she wanted him to pull her close. And all the things that followed after.

Forehead leaning against his forearm, she whispered into the skin, "Could you at least kiss me first? He only ever kissed me to get inside my head, and never until it was what he wanted." In hindsight Daniella could have smacked herself silly for ever allowing herself to be so taken advantage of, but being unable to travel through time it was what it was.

Reeling the prized catch in enough to bring her to the edge of the tub (and disturb the blanket of bubbles that had served so faithfully until that point), the brunette briefly brought his lips to her hairline before yanking her in for a back-breaking bear hug. It might not have been the sexiest of the embraces, but it was the one Dells needed the most. It was what they both needed, it turned out. Returning the touching gesture with interest, Sam first noted that her everything was pressed against him, soaking through his shirt, but he didn't care.

... And then he saw the blood that was beginning to bloom in the water. She hadn't seemed to notice, although it was inescapably obvious that something must have ripped open when he hugged her.

Maybe he could have tried to ignore the blood just long enough to score his team a home run, however his good heart had to win at least one victory for the day. "We need to get you out of there."

Mind clearly caught in the gutter and sight only on him, she blushed a flustered carmine and stammered over her own tongue in a betrayal of that previous bravado, "O-oh! We-well I've never done it from this angle before, but I was still thinking that I could at least get you started before the water got cold and we had to change venues. Unless it's your back?"

 _A little blood never killed anyone, right?_ Not scared of a little scarlet and finding it increasingly difficult to keep from just taking the heiress then and there, Sam figured that he was going to make her bleed at least a little before the day was over. Unhelpfully feeling the tug of her trying to find her way blindly to his zipper, a part of him knew that the "right" thing to do was stop them there, before anything too serious happened and she had to get put under for even more work. But the uncertain way she was bitting her lower lip was driving him crazy - crazy enough to tumble right over the ledge.

 **[Mind - the innermost monologues]**

Dark underside of the thief's dirtiest thoughts coming to life, as the bathing went away from entirely wholesome, he couldn't help but to grin to the devil within. How fitting was it that after everything, he would be the one to steal the last of Rafe's remaining treasures? In some small way, it almost made up for the wounds of Libertalia. Almost.

A small kindness not for the fact that his prey was who she she was but for what she was, Sam attempted to convey a gesture of comfort; this was no small thing, and there would be no turning back after it was done. So naturally it had been disheartening to his better side when she failed to meet his gaze. Disheartening, but not nearly enough to dissuade him from cherishing the effect he was having from the very beginning.

Clear as a summer day to anyone that was paying even a speck of attention, there was a very real struggle to resist going on below the bathwater. Too sharp to not catch on on some level, the brunette had figured that the letting go of the last certain part of her past was just one more thing the girl was scared of. Understandable as that would have been, even being as experienced as he was, it was tough to know anything for sure when her eyes were fixated on the spare sponge in the blocky handhold.

Studying the young woman pensively - not unlike if she had been the answer sheet to a test he had stolen - there was a slight melancholic look below the glowing blush. In no uncertain fashion, the frightened little girl within his princess was silently screaming in the immortal words of The Supremes, "Stop!". _Dammit._

Inside the mind a very different place from what was going on inside her body, the disconnect in her head was just a little bit stronger than the need for stimulation, although how long that would stay the case remained to be seen. Once she realized that Sam had stopped dead in his tracks Daniella peered deep into his crinkled steely blues. _There was a little bit of brown in the light flecks, just behind the part that wants me to think._ But think about what? Young adult she may have been, there was just enough room for her to give herself the label that she was old enough to consent... although...

Tremendously apologetic and as confused as he was about why she couldn't respond the "right way", it was impossible for her to move forward without reflecting on what brought them here to this place now.

Beginning in the rain on a night that changed everything she had ever known, it was tough to recall her exact thoughts on the stranger that had taken her in, however there was definitely something there when he saved her from drowning. Encouraged to discover that he had been there by her side for the first set of stitches, the girlish fantasy took a sharp turn when she'd overheard a private conversation that entailed mention of his mother and a possible attraction. Ordinarily that should have been a great thing, but what about their arrangement was normal? Mr. Drake was being paid to take care of her, so of course he was going to have to pay her some attention - it was her own lack of social skills that made it so hard to understand the game.

Line blurred further, her wish for just one true friend ate into a starved desire; Sam couldn't be counted on, and on some level she knew that, but that hadn't stopped her from hoping. Hoping that he would protect her from all the bad guys, that he would save her from the loneliness, that he would be better to her than anybody else had been. Than any man had been... Sleeping on her cot in the safe house, it would be lying to say that she hadn't entertained the thought... Only she had usually stopped herself before anything had gotten too out of hand.

Except that was all pretend, and this was real life. In real life Daniella had been kidnapped while out shopping with Miss Chloe, her main reason for going being feminine products and needing some space to distance herself from conflicting feelings still in the earliest stages of infancy. While the need for the former seemed to have passed, the later had only grown in her isolated desperation. _Goddammit._

Not quite caught up to the present, from that point in the narrative she had been tortured on the orders of the man her grandfather would be most likely to chose as her intended. Because that was just what she needed - more unresolved problems to deal with. Taking some initiative in her own story, after meeting her captor-face-to-face she had rescued herself by jumping out of a second-story window. As one obviously does. Cherry on top of a perfect shit sundae, there were some additional gaps between that could use some filling, however as she stewed in the bathtub, those were the last gaps she was thinking about...

Why then couldn't she engage?

Drawing from the mere surface of the limited well of her sexual knowledge, Daniella had learned enough from Jay to know when she wanted it, and there was no doubt that her body was ready to be ravaged. Troubled by the word due to recent events, that alone wasn't enough to put her off... was it?

Guilty of playing the 'man is a man' card in her head, the young woman had long since learned that sex was a selfish act for two, yet unlike the teacher she couldn't depend upon, there was a part of her that felt like maybe that could change. _I know that fairy tales aren't real, that no matter how hard you wish for something (or how much money you throw at the problem) it won't come true, but he's been there for me._ Before Sam, the only man that hadn't let her down had been her father. Well, Shen too, but just this once it wasn't such a crime to lump the two together.

Conversation playing out in the back of their heads basically the overall same, the only real difference of note was the order in which it had sprung. For Sam, who had at that time thought of the girl in terms of being both a virgin as well as clingy, at least Sleeping Beauty had it going in her favor that her crazy was upfront and not like to go all fatal attraction psycho stalker status. Potential stripper material in another life, the historian had a partial inkling of what this incarnation might go through mentally once he'd had his way with her; young girls had a way of seeing their first as something special, so why would this have been any different?

On one hand it was never a bad thing to get out what you needed to get out (at least not in Drake's experience), but on the other there was no knowing how it would affect the relationship moving forward. Expect in this case, what relationship was there to ruin?Between picking egg out of her cleavage that one time and watching her try (and fail) to hold down straight tequila after dance lessons with Logan, when precisely had they bonded? The few times he'd tried to speak with her at the safe house, Dells had pretty much turned a panicked pink and zipped off to be anywhere else. More than simple embarrassment, it seemed as if she were avoiding him intentionally.

As for the present, aside from one possible witness next door no one had to know about this little escapade beside the two of them; the doc might not have even been in, so frankly Sam couldn't come up with a single reason why they shouldn't. Well, not a good one that was a deal-breaker.

Though she couldn't quite nail down any particular reason why she wasn't completely comfortable with the scenario, all Daniella knew was that she wasn't ready. Alone with Sam for who knew how much longer, there was no telling when another opportunity like this would come along, but was that really a good enough reason? She doubted that her father would have approved. Mama certainly wouldn't have, which on its own was more than enough motivation to swallow her big girl pants and get out there on that pony... Or whatever the saying was.

"We can take this as slow as you need." Meant as encouraging she knew, experience made it sound like there was more to it then mere generosity.

 _Need_. Huh, now that was an interesting choice in words considering he was playing with a loaded gun. Truthfully there were no shortage of things he could do to her that crossed the mind, but there was also a list of things that had been done that hadn't exactly left the best of impressions.

It sure felt like she needed to do something about the feeling in her loins, but then again she had once been fooled into believing that she needed to help her professor in a similar fashion. "You mean that you'll see to me after you've been taken care of, right? Because that's what happens, right?" Honestly asking, Daniella forgot her manners and pointedly peeked over her shoulder at her companion's equally compromised condition, "You take your hand there and grease me up, and I'll return the favor until somewhere in the middle of it all you just forget about me. And of course I'm the bad guy if I try to remind you that you aren't the only one here."

Um, why did that sound like the voice of someone that knew from experience? Mind unable to keep from jumping immediately to the stalker-type he saw back in the precinct, he was nothing short of baffled by the sudden flip in the script. "You, uh, have something to tell me Dells?"

Tender and chaste, Daniella made a move that Sam hadn't been expecting; trouble was, he couldn't say if it was the action itself that struck him, or the confession. "Could you at least kiss me first? He only ever kissed me to get inside my head, and never until it was what he wanted."

 _Oh dear God_ , no wonder the long-suffering princess had hesitated and made such fuss digging her heels in the mud when he had made his move! A bit disappointed to hear that he wouldn't be the one to take Rafe's final treasure, part of Sam was honestly relieved that he wouldn't have to bear that cross after all.

 **[In The Italian Vila]**

Cold pizza on the menu for the woman (who, for the record looked like holy hell), the older gentleman that was basically her Sully settled on orange juice and toast. Neither one was particularly with it yet, although given the fact that they had practically emptied the bottle of luxury vodka that had been squirreled away, that didn't come as much of a surprise. Falling sideways against her near-constant companion as she nosily nibbled on the first bite, for a moment Cutter thought that she might have actually died. Or fell back asleep. Probably that last one.

Legs inked up due to juvenile pranks and in danger of also falling against Sam, as the slugger-thief looked at the pair he honestly had to wonder when exactly they had become so close. One of the most memorable things about the story he'd read last night being the unexplained gap that occurred in the hotel bathroom after she'd been rescued by Logan and the young doctor, it made a lot of sense to have happened there. She wanted it, he wanted it, and from what Charlie could tell they were both willing to ignore a potentially serious medical condition that could have ended up setting them back by days.

Although that didn't necessarily mean that they had done the deed - it didn't happen often, but the older Drake brother had his moments of being the good guy. And having just come back from two very dangerous places one after another with zilch for breathing room between, Adler had no business subjecting herself to something as serious as intimacy, no matter how much she thought she trusted her partner. Even now the bald brawler would have called that a dumb move, but at least by this point in time their bond had been tested and strengthened enough to handle that step. If it was even a step, but come on.

"What happened?" Cutter knew he shouldn't have asked (or even admitted to just reading all of what he had without an invitation), but damn if he wasn't genuinely curious. "In the hotel bathroom?"

Head rolling to the side as Sam nudged her back awake, the dark-haired woman scowled in return. _He was such a child!_ Returning to the real culprit, she gawked at Charlie as if she'd never seen him before, brain struggling to pull itself together enough to understand the question he was asking. Having re-read parts to make sure that she was keeping everything in order, it took her moment to remember that she had been working on her story before digging into the good stuff.

Fresh enough in her mind to finally connect the dots, the answer was short as it was simple. "It cut out."

Bonds messy thing in even the best light, some people might not appreciate, want, or understand the kind of relationship she and the thief had went on to develop. And it could have just been that she had the worst luck ever, but it just seemed like there were just way too many stories with incest plot lines going on at the time. Anyone that had read the story would probably accuse her of having her cake and eating it too, but frankly she was too hungover to care. Or even think about cake.

Anyways, even if it was anyone's business, it was no secret what happened to them in the end.

Sam was just lost and had no interest in bringing himself up to speed. "Shhush. My head feels like it's going to explode if you say another word." If he had been in on the conversation, she had no doubt that he would have claimed they had christened the bathroom and the bedroom too, just to be that difficult rogue he was.

Rolling her eyes at his dramatics, the would-be author simply leaned her head back against his shoulder and closed her eyes to the faint light that penetrated the intentionally thick kitchen drapes. _We really have come a long way, haven't we Sam?_ After all those assassination attempts and betrayals, their work ethic had definitely defined itself on the field; less professionally, there had been jealousy. On both sides. And... Mind drifting from a boyfriend that hadn't been all that great to finding her first treasure, it was inevitable that she remembered her lowest point too.

 _Well if it's true that time heals all wounds, some scars just take longer to heal than others_.

* * *

 **AN:**

Just wanted to try something a little different with the format. My apologies if it jarred anyone or caused confusion.

Actually, since I have you here, I'd like to go on the record with that potential relationship:

Sam and Daniella were originally intended to just be a father/daughter duo. Kinda like Joel and Ellie, Kratos and Pandora, Nathan and Shiloh (whole theory about Repo! The Genetic Opera right there), Ray-Ray and Ella (yeah, maybe slight spoilers for the last two episodes of Lucifer? Sorry! But gender aside, also another theory). In fact, in the first two chapters I was even contemplating if maybe Sam would be her biological father. Obviously I quickly decided that no, he wouldn't be. Being close to a year ago now, I can't really recall my exact reasoning for that, so... yay?

Anyways, I did want to make this story be a pure father/daughter type relationship, largely in part because I thought it would be great to see that for Sam. And yes, also as a challenge for myself - I always tend to bring my characters together romantically. Except that's usually long-term (or at least endgame, in my head). I may have failed in my mission (thank you in part to the last few chapters just being cranked out at astonishing speeds, taking the story for its own as I went), but I'm not going to beat myself up over it too much. For one thing, I beat myself up too much as it is (seriously, a complete stranger told me I beat myself up too much when I was in the store one day), and I'm trying to work on that. For another, I kindly refer you back to the opening quote and remind you that this story is listed as FAMILY. Families aren't black and white, and neither are relationships, so why should one automatically exclude the other? Genetics aside, obviously - family in this case mean people with close ties, not necessarily those that you are born to.

Point is, Sam and Daniella are going to have a relationship that won't be easily definable. What that means is that you'll have to keep reading :D


	39. Hotel Ceiling Looks So Pretty Tonight

**\- Chapter Thirty-Five -**

 **Hotel Ceiling Looks So Pretty Tonight**

Unwilling (or perhaps unable) to risk the creeping feeling of toxic guilt the heiress' frail figure threatened to bring, instead of focus on her prone form hovering over the sheets of the uncomfortable spring mattress, the brunette worried about himself. Still muttering dark curses at the door frame from where he had stubbed his toe carrying her into the bedroom, he wasn't like to forgive or forget. Alright, so maybe it was mostly his own fault for focusing more on the tip of his nose than what he'd missed out on (he wasn't a monster for chrissake), but what idiot architect failed to design a floor plan that didn't properly line up with the bathroom door?! Hotels were only good for two things, so you'd think they'd do better at their job.

Half-lidded as they rolled around the back of her head, the girl's eyes were unmistakably dimmer than they had been before it had all became too much for her to hold back. Basically losing consciousness before she had even been removed from the restroom, it wasn't all that hard to put together that every second wasted potentially put the young woman in greater danger. Definitely making up his mind to never get a pet - even one that required half this much attention - Sam knew logically what the next move needed to be, but he was not looking forward to explaining what had happened.

Radio the more ideal form of communication for the last mission, for this one it was better to opt for the new norm and use his cellphone. Moment for delay at an end, the thief reminded himself what precisely was on the line and swallowed his pride, pressing the call button that bloomed upon the screen of his silver-white smart phone. As he waited for the call to go through, Sam could only hope that the doctor was in.

"Ye?" Bored by surfing prepaid channels and almost ready to pray that something should happen just so he had something to do with himself, seeing the name on the caller ID caused Parades to perk up as he answered. "Has she woken up?"

In more ways than what the doctor had any right to know about. "You could say that..."

Given everything that he had witnessed between the thief and the heiress in the short time he'd been included in the party (forget about heard about later from secondhand accounts), it really wasn't all that hard to figure out the truth. First major clue coming when she had mistaken Savage for Drake, it was apparent that Adler had a thing for the older man. Although that could have just been a bad combination of drugs and obvious similarities the two men shared. As for the man in question, he was harder to read at first, but the way he hovered over her left little doubt that she didn't have at least some importance to him as well. In fairness it could have been strictly professional on his part, but as to that end Parades was skeptical. That Ross woman finding Drake in her bed was the deciding piece for the recent graduate.

TV off before the thief could so much as finish his train of thought, the young man picked himself up off the worn liver sofa and started for the door. He'd probably need to come back for his tools, but he'd rather not be seen carrying more than one bag at at time, if he could help it. "I'll be right there."

Not a complete savage, when he heard the kid say that he'd be coming over to check on the patient Sam thought to throw a towel over the heiress before the calvary arrived. Technically he'd already seen Daniella naked when he'd assisted Chloe and Nadine wash her that first night, but the brunette didn't much care for the idea that he get another free show. Abandoning the body long enough to return to the bathroom for the towel that never got used, there had been just enough time to toss it over her chest and legs before the door opened.

Still miffed about Chloe giving the kid a key to the room, he straightened a starchy corner before tucking it a little too forcefully against her side. "Good response time. A little rude, just inviting yourself in, but I guess I can pardon you under the circumstances."

Ignoring the comment like the Frazer woman advised he do, the younger man made a beeline for the bed. Pillow already sopping wet in the center from the obviously short time the heiress had been laying there, the dry towel covering her modesty all but confirmed his theory. Surmising that he would't hear the full story from Drake's mouth, he glanced back over his shoulder at the tatted brunette to get a better scope of what damage might have occurred. White shirt clinging to his chest from an excess of moisture, one button on his pants left undone, the real giveaway that the thief had a hand in whatever transpired was the bloody water still running down his arms.

Exam through, it became clear with little more than a once-over that the damage boiled down to two small tears on her inner thigh. Avoiding any arteries, el ángel de la muerte had cut particularly deep the closer he got to the girl's pelvis, the incisions masterfully positioned to meet every time she brought her legs together. Practically impossible to not aggravate or inflame the location, from this point on they would need to keep that particular place well bandaged. Especially if the pair planned on trying to be intimate again.

Frankly Parades could care less what sort of relationship the young woman had with the old man; what had kept him around was her precarious health. And with luck the ridiculous amount of money he could go on to acquire on the side as her trusted physician.

"Next time you might want to exercise more caution with a trauma patient - the stitches in her legs wore down and tore from an abundance of fussing. Whatever you two get up to in your free time, do her a favor and cut down on the teasing; just be liberal with lubricants and find a position that won't upset my work again." Tilting his head to consider what he thought would be the wisest in medical terms, the vet's younger brother mused for a moment before blurting, "Doggy, I think. If you put something between her legs to dissuade her from playing shy - like a small pillow or a balled-up shirt - and engage her from behind, that should prevent a repeat incident. If that doesn't do it, perhaps keeping her on top? I bet advising you two to not is off the table, so I won't waste my breath."

Was he seriously getting this talk from a kid playing at being a doctor?

'Doctor', ha. Under the rushed circumstances it was a fitting enough title, but one that was perhaps being leaned too heavily into; coming clean from the get, the kid himself even asserted that he wasn't even qualified enough to be called a glorified dog nurse. Admirable as the honesty was, the historian refused to just blindly believe that he could (and would) tend to the every need of heiress without expecting some form of compensation.

Yet there they were, no better options on the table.

Unaware of how short the thief was truly getting with his expertise, Parades informed the girl's caretaker that she could indeed live to see another day. "I can patch her back up, but that'll be the last of the pure Telazol my brother lent me." Unwittingly, but that hardly seemed relevant to mention in his assessment. "After that, we'll have to find our own if something comes up again."

 _Geez_ , Sam thought to himself as the kid tossed non-verbal accusations like beads at Mardi Gras, _it's almost as if he doesn't trust me around her either._ Against his better judgment the thief chanced a glance down at his stolen Sleeping Beauty, but only once they had been left alone while the doc went to gather his tools from next door. _Go figure_ , the brunette fixed the towel a final time before the emergency surgery commenced, _all this because of Chloe._

 **[Three At Sea]**

Pulse a tad on the slow side and breathing still shallow hours after the medicine should have worn off, otherwise her vitals seemed stable. Understanding the difference even the most minim of equipment could make as as child, now that he was old enough to better appreciate his brother's calling, the young man wished that there had been more time to better prepare. Crafting a mental list of everything that could have helped, the doctor frowned as the floor rocked and swayed against the current. Waves. Whatever. Either way all the motion couldn't have been conductive to the patient's condition.

Drake and company had all been against setting out with the heiress in such a delicate state, however it was all their captain could give them for what they had. IOU not a valid form of legal tender in the sailor's mind, Parades had only agreed to help smuggle the girl from the hotel on the condition that he accompany her during the voyage. No one but the thief, the girl, and the doctor had been any wiser to the fact that she been conscious at a point, so no complaints had been issued. In fact, for the most part they all seemed to encourage the notion.

Really the only complaint anyone had was Drake, and that was only when he learned that it would just be the three of them shipping out to their destination. Citing work-related reasons, Nadine and her son were easily dismissed, however losing Chloe had been a major blow for the brunette, who obviously didn't want to be left alone with the heiress for any period of time. Maybe it was solely that he didn't trust himself around the girl, and honestly Parades didn't care so long as she didn't suffer another setback. The blonde one, the surfer, he had left shortly after the young woman had been recovered, so he was virtually a non-entity at this time. He wouldn't be missed.

"Smmh?" Barely audible over the whipping winds and steady creak from below, there had been so many false alarms that this one blip went by completely unheeded.

One positive about the situation being that the squirming had settled down considerably this go around, the young man pressed his palm to her forehead to make sure there wasn't a fever. Granted a lager dosage of sedatives from the start, everything had gone swimmingly; under the cover of night, it had been a cinch carrying what could have passed for another junkie through the city streets to the pier. Although, maybe he ought to give credit where credit was due - Drake had not only shown great aptitude for smuggling but had also proven to be a silent comfort to their girl as well.

That was why the brunette was in the room now, reading a book to pass the time.

Shortly after calling him over to see to the mess he'd made, Drake had told the younger man that he'd filled in the heiress to his existence, however Parades was having a hard time believing it. True, there really might have been time to do so, but from what he'd concluded from the facts it was difficult to picture a scenario in which the princesa didn't run to the thief as soon as she possibly could. After all, Sam could be charming when he wanted to be.

"How much longer until we land?" It wasn't the first time he'd asked, and it probably wouldn't be the last either.

Neither man a stranger to braving a coastal storm that could have ended all, what concerned the doctor most was how much time they would have left before they had to start worrying about their royal companion. Imagining with ease another life in which the heiress went sailing with the other fabulous and rich of the world on weekends, just this once she wasn't the root of the problem. No, what gnawed at his thinning nerves was the prospect of who they'd find at the docks. Drake seemed positive enough to bet his life that they'd be fine with the exact coordinates he'd given the captain, although he wasn't nearly so confident.

Tired from a long night and even longer time stuck in close confines with the brat, Sam wasn't above alleviating some of that irritation, "As a pretend medical expert, you of all people should know that stressing too much can lead you to an early grave." The very epitome of being relaxed, the adventurer calmly turned the page and returned to his book. Staking his claim on the window seat for just this reason, he hadn't even bothered to check.

Annoyed to the point of losing a part of his English by constantly getting shrugged off, the young man made it no secret that he was muttering under his breath, "So can having a heart-attack from fucking a twenty-year old..." There was no immediate reply, although he imagined that the remark had struck a nerve. It certainly had when he said it in Spanish. Or maybe it had been what else he had implied at that time.

Title not all that interesting as it turned out, the ex-con closed the tome with a curt snap; placing the light summer novel on his lap, he pointed over to the figure bundled up in the second of two bunk beds. "See that girl there? I know you've must've looked at least once." Rich or not, a pulse was a pulse. "The closest you're going to get is in your dreams, because she's never gonna look at you the way she looks at me."

"What," the less-lived of the two wasn't fussed by the boorish squirk to escape his person when he countered, "like the father she doesn't have? Please, if I wanted to play that game, I could have that girl calling me 'Papi' like that." Snapping his fingers to illustrate his point, it almost seemed worth the effort just to spite the other man.

"Okay." Face composed one minute, the next Sam had thrown the book aside with a lopsided flop, his fist flying through the air like the proverbial bat-out-of-hell.

Older and supposedly wiser, the historian hadn't intentionally gone looking for a fight with the brat, however there was no universe in which he was going to tolerate that kind of disrespect. Especially not from a judgmental little punk that had no clue what he was talking about! _Or maybe he was only so bothered with their newest addition because on some level he was afraid he had the right of it._ This time Dells being in this shape was on him - sure, she had some fault in the matter escalating to the point that it had, but Sam should have known better, should have stopped it before it started. "No" was the hardest answer, yet in that instance it would have been the right one.

Scuffle ultimately leading to an unceremonious crash-landing at the young woman's feet, there had been no shortage of knuckle to the tenderized meat-scape Logan had left. Honestly he probably shouldn't have acknowledge it, but there was a strong feeling incredibly similar pride when he saw the kid's face. A circuit favorite for a reason, thanks to Chloe pulling up old archive footage on her phone the brunette could honestly admit that Logan did good work on and off the board.

Back to the issue at hand, the explosive tussle jarring her royal pain awake came as only a mild surprise. You know those moments in cartoons, where something whimsical happens in a dangerous situation, and the hero and whatever the moment's antagonist is stop fighting to see what happens next? Well they had one of those moments, but unlike it turning against the protagonist, both parties were immediately put to shame.

Withering glare more than enough to quell the spat on the spot, Dells looked like to skin them alive before she noticed who it was laying across her legs. _Alright,_ the ex-con ceded as he massaged his jaw, so _maybe the kid could handle his own, but there was no need to congratulate him for a cheap victory_. Softening naturally the second she recognized the graying brown locks cozying up to her calves, it skipped the young woman's attention that there was another person in the room with them. Also she failed to realize that this wasn't the hotel but yet another new setting altogether. Case in point about her being so wrapped around Sam's finger.

Lips cracking back almost to the gum line as her face absolutely lit up, everything faltered and faded straight to an abysmal ash when he failed to return her gaze. _What?_ Determined to look at anything but the girl, the thief picked himself off of her legs and got straight to his feet before she could clutch out for him and make a further spectacle of herself. _No!_ In vain the heiress tried to get his attention by subconsciously bobbing and weaving in place, hurt and confusion hand-in-hand as they took her into their arms instead.

Woozy and more than just a little discombobulated as everything hit her all at once - rather like a merciless tide - even though she had just woken up the heiress was still tired. Thoughts were jumbling in her head like a gelatinous blob monster with slightly acidic properties, the more serious musings akin to jagged boulders crashing over the head of an already burdened Atlas. Part of the internal distortion felt like a dream, although maybe that was the effect of coming out of another fairy-tale sleep. Food a forgotten comfort in dreamland, there was a different struggle to juggle as everything overlapped, although for the life of her Daniella couldn't explain it.

Then again, there was a lot that she couldn't explain, such as why Mr. Drake - Sam - was absolutely refusing to acknowledge her.

Mutely imploring him to look at her just once so that she might have some clue to go by, there was only more silent rebuff. Admittedly torn between this and a reality where she had just been swimming through a waterfall of lost pirate gold, telling what had truly been and what was all imaginary was thrice as insurmountable as it should have been. For all she knew, there might have been a skull-printed mint in her pocket at that very moment.

 _The bathroom had happened, right?_ That hadn't been a dream, it couldn't have been...

On the verge of calling out his name, of begging to hear that this wasn't a dangerous backslide, she crumbled and broke instead. _He really wasn't going to be different from Jay, was he?_ Dying to believe otherwise, so far this was the same song... and she was even going to start out with the same dance moves. Fear winning the day once more, she just wanted to close her eyes to it all... Too bad she had blown that chance when it would have been on her own terms.

As the innocent and naive tend to do in these types of situations, Daniella could only place the blame square on her own shoulders: obviously she must have made a mistake somewhere, because what else could it have been? She must have done something wrong, something that he hadn't liked.

Failure never a pretty color, as the heiress wracked her brain nothing readily came to mind - for everything she thought that she remembered, he had genuinely seemed to enjoy what she had done. Sure, there had been that initial moment of figuring things out, but the young woman didn't count that, so what else could it have been? Replaying the moment over and over again in her head, the only thing she could come up with was that there hadn't been any kind of finish. Not that came to mind at any rate. Oddly enough, the more she focused on that thread, the faster everything seemed to burn away. Why could that have been? Was that when the curse of sleep had taken her?

Very real, there had been a lot of agony in her legs that had just kept building the longer they went, however there had also been a sweeter sensation just above that. Floating along a red red river, what he had done to her body felt so much better than the rainbow cloud surrounding her at that very moment. Maybe it was only because she wanted to remember it that way in her head, or maybe it was because that happy joy feeling was blinking out of existence, but if she could pick an experience to relive, Daniella had no doubt in her heart about which she would chose.

Unless this was him just being done with her? But she didn't think he would lose interest with her before the main attraction... Although, he had seen and done so much, so why should she matter any in the scheme of things?

Ill from the sheer volume of child-like adoration and unspoken concern choking the air of the modest cabin, the young man wondered if perhaps the heiress was indeed as under Drake's thumb as the thief thought. It certainly seemed that way, but there were always cracks to exploit if one knew where to look. Question was, while Parades had his own interests to see to, would it be worth the potential risk to test his theory? As a man of some science, it was always interesting to see the outcome of various experiments; as an assault victim, a little taste of the beautiful people getting their comeuppance wasn't uncalled for.

Drake may have been self-assured enough to not view the young man as an immediate threat to what was his, however he was about to be proven wrong for his arrogance. "Easy there, chica." Playing up the role of doctor, Parades was quick to take the spot his rival had so been so swift to vacate, "Easy."

Baffled at first by the sudden appearance of a complete stranger, Daniella vaguely recalled Sam mentioning that some doctor had saved her life. _Lucky her._ Caught off guard by the disarming smile, the heiress literally fell back against the pillow when she saw the man she ought to thank. "Y-you?! I... You... You're the angel that I..." Blushing tomato red, the young woman realized how she must have sounded for talking about divinity; good thing she hadn't mentioned the part where she thought the angel had been her father. "I thought I only dreamed you." From the looks of him, the stranger probably heard that a lot. "You look too young to be a doctor...?"

Trailing off to wait for an introduction, Sam thought that the punk's games would end the minute he told Dells the truth about not even being a nurse. "Please, Rafael. And before you get the wrong idea about me, the closest I come to being a doctor is my older brother, who is just a veterinarian. Fortunately that was enough to get you back on the mend."

"Raf- Rafael? That sounds so much like..." And he kinda looked like him too, in the way that they both had dark hair. "I just can't..." Subtlety the last thing she should put on her resume, Daniella may have lost something that was there in the smile she had when she saw Sam, however there was no missing what Rafael picked up. "Well I'm glad that he went into the field, or else who knows where I'd be right now?"

Whatever smirk Sam might have had at that moment was wiped clean away.

"Sweet Señorita, just lay back and relax." Vindictively rejoicing in this first win, Rafael touched her hand encouragingly and beamed to match, "Tell me a little about yourself while we wait to land. Such as, would you prefer I call you señorita Adler? I wouldn't want to overstep my boundaries." It was too small a gesture to see through the hearts and stars in her eyes, but he had directed his gaze to Drake.

Giggling (the brunette chalking it up to the effects of the medicine), the heiress blushed harder, "I like the sound of that... But under the circumstances, maybe it's best to not use my last name?" Sam could pretend that she had learned from her recent experience as much as he wanted to, but Rafael's truth was that she had given him that much leeway for a reason. And would be sorely disappointed for it, but that was too far down the road to think about just yet.

Then it dawned her, "Wait, did you just say land?" The young woman hadn't realized the rhythmic sashay at first, yet it certainly explained the sour swaying of her stomach. Or maybe that was all on the young pseudo street-doctor that bore such an uncanny resemblance to her dearly departed father. _Daddy, is this a sign?_ For perhaps the first time since she'd learned that her father wouldn't be coming back home, Daniella wasn't so keen to listen. "Maybe you could fill me in first?"

"No need," starting for the door before a love connection could form, one advantage of gazing at everything else was that he could see the island growing closer to greet them, "we're here."

Dammit, Drake was good. But not nearly good enough. "Why don't you go ahead and greet your friends first? I'll escort the lovely Señorita. They may be expecting us, but there's no need to push our pretty lady friend."

 _Wow, really?_ Even if he had been blind and only half as traveled as he was, the irked brunette would have seen that one coming a mile away. About to open her mouth before second-guessing the decision, there was no missing Dells trip over herself at the mere suggestion - and to think, the last time she had been conscious it had been a different dance partner she wanted. Maybe she really was her father's daughter after all.


	40. I'm The Hero You Think You Deserve

**\- Chapter Thirty-Six -**

 **I'm The Hero You Think You Deserve**

Amethyst and amber sprouting defiantly where they would, the rampant growth crept as far as the innermost sects of the cathedral halls, although it was a rare stalk to actually penetrate the worn stone cracks. Pitted tawny and dusted dapple, glowing faint sherbet in the flickering torches and falling hollow cobalt in the dismal darkness, the walls played a rather fetching contrast. Only they weren't there for a nature tour or the dated architecture: armed with almost brand new chisels and well-used flashlights instead of the usual dynamite, they were there for Avery's treasure. Miraculously one of the few corners that Shoreline hadn't blown to smithereens yet, the collapsed passage wasn't undiscovered so much as it was given a second look.

Options running out as desperation mounted, Rafe had just brought in the criminal from Panama, and frankly everyone was curious to know what he would add to the operation. Talk was that he had the best insight into the pirate they were attempting to steal from, that he was in fact the foremost authority. Except he had been out of the game for more than ten years, so what could he hope to accomplish that the paramilitary company hadn't?

Turned out the answer was to start by reviewing every single action and transaction taken these past thirteen years with a fine-tooth comb. Files, ledgers, billing statements and employment histories, books, articles, news clippings (had anyone stopped nursing paper cuts long enough to remind the man what year it was yet?), every last resource was being channeled into reexamining the records. At one point the search had become so exhaustive that Adler had even called in some of the so-called sharpest minds on his payroll to have a go at the receipts, the team of temps spearheaded by none other than his right-hand woman.

Dividing the tale into halves at that point, while both of the stories were true one focused on said woman, whereas the other was about the ex-con Rafe had quickly grown to favor.

 **[Bai]**

Positively blood-thirsty and possibly even more adamant about pleasing her superior than he was obsessed with digging up the loot, almost all of the mercenaries had come to see the businesswoman in the same light they saw their own boss in. Not that any of them were stupid enough to say that within earshot of Nadine. One-sided as it appeared to be, there was a certain animosity the outsider felt for the other woman, so it was better to keep them as far apart as possible. Not quite jealousy per say, it was virtually a death sentence to so much as utter the woman's name in a non-professional context.

Some of the greener recruits were almost vocal about noticing that miss Wen (or Mistress as she was sometimes referred) was quite the stunning woman. Easy on the eyes and from a background that bore some resemblance to what they did, the lure of the forbidden served to only sweeten the pot for the rookies. Understandable enough when there weren't too many women around, many a soldier had watched her work her stiletto heels and tight pencil skirts in tortured silence. And then someone had made the mistake of bringing their approval to her attention.

Mother-mode on full tilt, at that time Bai had also been balancing a sick daughter and last-minute applications to all of the best kindergartens; not just back in America but anywhere there was a program for children her little girl's age. Ordinarily she would have had all the forms filled out and on all the right desks long before the public deadline neared, however work had been consuming every free minute she had. In her mind Rafe adding an extra zero to the bribe was the least he could do for his little girl, but as he hadn't bothered to get involved at any stage, there was some debate as to whether Daniella was an Adler or not. Daniella would end up going to only one of the schools in the end, however every rejection letter would become a cautionary tale.

In the meantime, there were bigger fish to fry. Not afraid to pull employees when and where it was advantageous, so far as the research team under her instruction went, there were only so many leads they had turned up. Largely the effort was just a massive waste of everyone's time, and she knew it as well as anyone else, yet that hadn't stopped her from cracking the whip.

Enter the sap from Shoreline that had thought it would be a good idea to whistle suggestively at her passing. A small enough offense and even flattering on a good day, too much had been eating at Bai to not be bothered by the old-world display of sexism in the workplace. She took what she wanted, when she wanted it. Less making an example and more a pure act of lashing out, the businesswoman hadn't hesitated to pull the very visible pistol from her hip and let out some steam. Usually she had only used her gun to deal with large spiders or the rats that had the misfortune of crossing her path, yet as she fired she couldn't distinguish much difference in eliminating vermin.

Venture anywhere near miss Wen, and risk a horrible fate - that was the type of reputation she had earned after dispatching the mercenary. Nadine had went ballistic when she had heard, but what could she do against the mother of their financier's offspring? Drake had enjoyed that little episode, even though he'd only heard the ghost stories secondhand while playing cards with the hired guns. Rafe hadn't found it particularly amusing, although there was little doubt in anyone's mind that he would have done anything different if he had been there. In fact, some even speculated that the deceased had been fortunate that the bank and his bitch hadn't done worse, that he had had the luxury of a quick death.

Having said all of that, for the sake of appearances Bai had been called into the office for a stern talking to; whatever was said, it had been a short meeting. Technically speaking they had been interrupted by a small child disobeying direct orders to stay in her room, tears in her eyes as she sobbed about a nightmare. Supermom had moved to remove the child and return her to their room, however the tot wasn't having it and would only go if her father took her.

"No, I want Daddy!" Kicking her mother away with surprising force after falling to the floor, a young Daniella had zipped on all fours to hide under the desk, her tiny hands like baby pythons as she clung to her father's legs for dear life. "Mama's gonna send me away! I hate her!" Fueled in part by her nightmare, it was obvious that her fear had stemmed from overhearing plans to look at schools across the world. Mortified by the implications, since the girl barely got to see her father as it was, the way she saw it in her head was that if Mama had her way she might never get to see him again! At least not until she was full grown and old like everyone else... "DADDY DO SOMETHING!"

In a bad mood already, the last thing Rafe needed was having to set aside a moment to calm his offspring. Glaring pointedly at Bai for not just leaving the child back at home with a nanny as he'd repeatedly advised, he sighed in exasperation. "I can promise you that your mother isn't going to send you away," ice chipping back a layer of warmth that never existed, he leered at the woman with a hundred unspoken threats, "she isn't going to do anything I tell her not to. Isn't that right?"

"Of course. Daddy knows were my loyalties lie." Ironically timed words, spoken without much consideration for the child they shared.

Loyalties, an interesting choice of words. Anyone on the outside of their situation would have seen the ultimate imitation of the ideal mother, a protector that would do anything for her kid, except that wasn't the whole story. Not with the woman he came so dangerously close to caring about. To her credit Bai was actually somewhat decent at managing their daughter, however there was a disconnect somewhere in the woman's brain - a specialist would probably have a few ideas about what it was, but that would mean letting someone else see the truth. Guard a foreign concept when it came to the father of her progeny, the cracks shone through at the best of times. At the worst... Well that was a road she wouldn't be too thrilled to explore.

Innocence of youth blinding her to the weighted stares dancing the Argentinian tango across the room - passion in one hand and a sharpened dagger in the other - Daniella was equally deaf to the undertones warring over her future. Or their own futures, more like. "So if Daddy told Mama to let me stay, I'd get to stay with Daddy?" The possibilities were so strong in her eyes that for a moment they seemed less pale and more like her mother's.

"Daniella!" Bai knew full well what her daughter was aiming at, and she knew what Rafe was going to say before he said it.

Choosing to not engage with the little girl clinging to his knee directly lest she get her little hopes up, the multi-billionaire shook his head, "Not so fast, little girl. That's correct in so many words, but that's not going to happen here. I have important work to do, and you'd only be in my way. No, your mother is going to take you home, and then she's going to put you in a good school, because my daughter will not be an uneducated little ingrate that thinks she can just order everyone around her to do every tiny little thing she wants. Life's not fair, and it's high time you learned that."

 **[Sam]**

Locked out of the makeshift mess hall for making one little comment about how the rations the mercenaries were being fed wasn't much different from the slop served in prison, Sam wasn't all that hurt by the consequences of his actions. A little more comfort than he would have expected, why bother with Shoreline's sorry excuse for cuisine when he had access to the private chef Rafe employed? Or maybe it was the little woman the maniac had somehow coerced or otherwise emotionally abused into loving him; class through and through, she definitely screamed the sort to need a personal household staff where ever she went. A psycho match made in heaven... if they didn't kill each other first that is.

Not technically his business when he'd been scarcely more than a quick escape, the brunette found it was better to not dwell on that three-ring circus or the bespectacled beauty that was struggling to be both star and ringmaster. Assuming of course that there had been any room left up on the pedestal she had put Rafe on (his guess was that there wasn't normally, although she had a pretty flexible frame). It actually reminded him of this one street performer he'd met in Greece... Or was he thinking of the one from Prague?

Shrugging it off in the salty breeze that ruffled his hair and pulled at his coat, the adventurer purged all thoughts of adultery from his mind as he strolled around the corner to the old living quarters. Almost feeling like the idea had come from a past life, there was a small part of him that worried he might turn into salt if he allowed so much as a single wayward thought while on hallowed ground. Obviously he was being ridiculous to entertain the notion, but at the same time it didn't feel so crazy to err on the side of caution just this once.

Cigarette a more comforting friend than any he had known the last decade, Sam rolled the slender white stick between his teeth as he fished out his lighter from an inside pocket. To be fair there were a handful of guys in Shoreline that didn't completely make him want to bash his skull into a brick wall, yet he'd hardly felt compelled enough by their company to honestly want to seek any one of them out. Forget about the time after he'd befriended a guard, being largely isolated for his crimes - and the crimes of his two more fortunate companions as well - loneliness wasn't exactly a new feeling for the thief.

It did however seem to be a strange new feeling for one of the cuties that Rafe's other half had brought in. Strawberry-blonde, possibly Irish or Scottish from her remaining accent, not too tall, green eyed, the woman seemed to be something like an assistant to Bai, except her only job was to supervise the research effort when the hardass herself had to bail. Common enough these days, what with the kid being sick, Drake had managed to speak with her quite a few times.

Most everyone treated him like garbage, like some horrible monster that had broken free of its cage, yet she hadn't. Jaded by the reception of Rafe's missus, the brunette's first thought was that her almost tender treatment had more to do with the kind of scum she worked with on a daily. A reasonable jumping point, after a few conversations and a purely coincidental coffee date, he reasoned that she just might have been a kinder soul than anyone in the business should have been. Adding to that surprise was the discovery that she was working _towards_ being Bai's go-to.

Odd as it was, they had clicked. Trouble was, Sam wasn't the only one - a Shoreline shitheel, one of of the guys had actively gone out of his way to speak to the woman at every opportunity, not taking no for an answer. It hadn't been disruptive to their work just yet, but smart money was on Nadine stepping in soon to make a rule about not fraternizing with outsiders. Sensing that that move would go over well, while the thief did strongly support the idea, he hadn't been too vocal about it.

But since when does fate care what any one person wanted? Correction, when had it ever cared about what Sam Drake wanted?

Time and circumstance no man's friend, as the historian stole a private moment to himself to honestly just breathe in the fresh air that had long been denied him, who else should stumble upon his little slice of paradise but the woman and her shadow? Half tempted to just slink back into the deep shade before anyone realized that he was there, there was no ignoring the conflict that had sought him out. Loathing the forces of destiny with just about every fiber of his being, naturally he had stepped in to intervene on the woman's behalf - no one had asked him to, it was just the right thing to do.

Long version of the story going into great length about the way baby Ging found herself backed into a literal wall, the stalker making no secret of sniffing her hair as he pinned her in place, the short version went on to summarize what happened next. As happens all too often in these type of situations, one thing led to another: first it was razor blade barbs and harsh words, but that had escalated all too rapidly into blows. In almost no time at all, all that had remained of a bad scenario was little more than a pulp that uttered threats and a scared little mouse that had seen too much to be comfortable around her protector any more.

Scrapes and bruises little more than just another part of any given day, maybe the ex-con had taken the violence a little too far, however it wasn't like anyone had ended up in a body bag! Not yet, although once word had reached Nadine and subsequently Rafe, nothing was very certain...

Wifey already granted full amnesty for what boiled down to cold-blooded murder, any idiot could see that there was no way in hell Shoreline would stay in line if the second outburst went unanswered. Mindful of what that meant, Rafe had been left no other alternative but to call Sam in for his actions. Had he not already "handled" the whole fiasco with Mistress Wen, the multi-billionaire would have easily pardoned the brunette over his on-again/off-again associate, no question. Sadly for all involved, as that wasn't in the cards now had been the time to prove who was in control.

Easily the kind that relished the position, the icy-eyed villain made a full show of having Knot bring the guilty forth to his study. Gliding from the open index on the desk to greet his guest, Rafe ordered the lieutenant away with a single wave of his hand. "Samuel." Never a good thing when he adapted the name to ring with an almost silky sound, he inclined his dark head at the brunette, eyes predatory as he studied the other man. "What on earth could you possibly have been thinking? Pulling a stunt like that..." Allowing a pause that could crush a weaker man, he was disappointed to see that prison had improved Drake's poker face. "Playing the hero doesn't suit you."

Pouring a scotch for himself and something a little stronger for Sam, Rafe offered the glass without a word; grateful that his 'partner' was in a kinder mood than he had been earlier that week, he accepted the glass and took a healthy swig. Aware of what the other man was getting at, the historian simply shrugged his shoulders, "You win some, you lose some."

"Of course." Enjoying his own drink until it came down to one or two more remaining shots, the rich investor turned fortune seeker set the glass down on the bookshelf before turning his attention back to the only other person in the room. "As your friend I just wanted to remind you not to dwell on Bai's little pet. Nadine thinks I'm going to reprimand you for the loss of her men, but we both know I'm not going to. You're too much like me. We're treasure hunters, Samuel, men of fortune! The only things that can satisfy us - truly satisfy us - is the glory and the chase itself. We can pretend otherwise, but family is just a distraction. Daniella, your brother, they may have their uses in our lives but in the end it will just be you and me standing there when we find Avery's treasure."


	41. Welcoming Party

**\- Chapter Thirty-Seven -**

 **Welcoming Party**

Tail beating the side of her master's leg like a great big welcoming drum, the golden pup trembled excitedly in her shiny sun-kissed fur as she watched the battered boat being tied down at the end of the pier. Windswept breeze dying just enough to fuss with the colorful second skins of her people, Vicky could practically taste it in the salty air that the short seasonal storm would break soon. Ending as abruptly as it had started, it was a relief to the pooch to see the sky and the sea return to the same harmonious shades they usually were. Her master would let her girl out to play when the weather was nice. She liked to play, especially with her girl!

"Remember what I said Nate," friendly and always cautious for the clan, the master's mate chose her words with care, "just be nice." Breeze carelessly running prying fingers against them all, her own canary tresses began to flail against the master as well. Kind brown eyes adamant even as the familiar tumble threatened to loosen across her pretty face, the woman gave her spouse a light squeeze on the inside of his wrist as she wound her arm into his, "I mean it." A practiced form of communication, she whispered too low for their offspring to hear, however Vicky's canine ears had no problem hearing the human speech perfectly fine. "Chloe filled me in yesterday, and I gotta say, it doesn't sound good."

Wounded by the fact that she even had to ask - or rather playing like he was - the master held his chest and made a face, but frankly Vicky had lost interest by that point. People were coming! New people! And dog? Cat? Better not be a mangy stray... Buried beneath the rancor of agitation and mixed among spices and herbs, there were simply too many aromas invading the air to be absolutely sure; definitely man-made and natural alike, there was life aboard the vessel.

If she were still listening, the faithful companion would have heard her master mumble to himself, "You be nice... I'm always nice."

Barking at the unfamiliar watercraft, Vicky didn't let up in her defense until a familiar person disembarked; semblance of silence short-lived, the dog was back at it as soon as she identified two new humans.

Master's kin as notable as ever by the distinct fragrance of oiled leather, there was something different - something _off_ \- lingering just below the usual briny musk. Parchment and ink recent mixtures to the temporary layers, this was stronger, yet not quite enough to immediately stand out... Sniffing at the air with an almost fervent suspicion, Vicky discerned a feminine base, clouded by sterile antiseptics and a light balm. Despite an attempt to wash away the pungent odors of intimacy, master's blood brother was soaked in the new aroma, implying to the pooch that one of the companions was in fact a potential mate.

Obviously smell went a long way in determining whether or not a person could be trusted, however it was not the only deciding factor. Entrusted with the safety and happiness of her humans, Vicky gave the two strangers a once-over. Yapping and impatient pacing causing her little human's arms to wrap tight around her body in an oppressive manner, the embrace made it difficult to judge, yet the old girl wouldn't be deterred from her task.

Knotted at the base of graceful neck that gave way to burgeoning muscles, the she-creature had a dark mane and light eyes swallowed by even darker bags. Reeking of the bitter stench of medicine, the wounded shape being supported like some lopsided beast carried the same undertone of rich sweetness that tainted the master's kin, as well as the same suggestion of sex. In fact it was stronger on her, with time and water only doing so much to mask what had happened. Confused by the lack of seed, she could still make out something like light and velvet beneath a war of male dominance.

Grounded and earthy where the smell Vicky knew was the closest to freedom a human could get was slick and rather like diesel, the fainter of the two essences surrounding the female was dark. Enigmatic, dangerous possibly. Technically speaking the second male had yet to leave his mark on the female, however there was no denying that the two men were antagonistic towards one another. While both strangers were worth keeping an eye on, the first thing Vicky's superior nose picked up on was the telling perfume of other animals that he carried on his person like a blanket. Only... she couldn't see any of them... Were they still on the small ship? It was absolutely driving her crazy!

"Vicky!" Feeble rays of late morning sun glinting off her hair as she held fast to the family pet at her mother's side, Cassie exclaimed as her control waned. Pooch vigorously squirming to greet their company, it was only just barely her fault that the dog got away.

Forever young at heart as she rambunctiously tore away from her girl's constraint and bounded up the pier for a closer look at the visitors, Vicky's enthusiasm could have been misconstrued as a sudden assault to a stranger. Ultimately harmless as a fly, like her owners she was a sweet girl with a lot of love to give. Unfortunately for the pair making their way to the dock, the furry ball of yellow loving was so wiled up by the lie of other animals that she bowled straight into the pillar supporting the prospective mate. Nose first, she was determined to find where the other animals where hidden.

 **[Sam]**

Arms thrown up to protect his face, in the act of doing everything he could think of to keep the sniffing beast at bay, Rafael made the idiotic split-second decision to let go of Daniella. Probably just survival instinct kicking in, whatever the real reason was, there was no justifying his stupidity. As Sam knew from almost a month of experience tending to Sleeping Beauty, the girl was inexplicably cursed with the sort of rotten luck that would almost certainly see her taking a swim. For that reason and that reason alone - well, to be fair the brunette was also the closest to her in terms of proximity - his muscles were snaked around her waist before she could so much as threaten to teeter in place.

Why did Dells have to fit so well against his body? Thinking to himself that he shouldn't have acted so quickly this once, as she fell against his chest he caught a whiff of the hotel's lavender soap; pleasant as some claimed the smell of lilacs and lavender and all that crap to be, personally he didn't think it suited her. Daniella smelled fine enough on her own (even though there was something that recalled Rafe), and besides, the wound was still too raw to be reminded of what had almost happened. She had been right where he wanted her, yet they had made hardly any progress at all! So then why did she have to be so warm in the cold wind that promised to cut them all to shreds?

 _Dells_...

Hope was honestly a force that the thief could say he believed in, as he himself had experienced a handful of the wondrous things it had accomplished, however for the girl, it was a thousand lemon-soaked knives in a single wound. No stranger to harboring an unspoken faith, he could feel it sticking like barbed points in her ribs, hear it catching like gasoline fire in the little gasp to escape her lips when she lost balance against him. Yet he still couldn't bring himself to look at her; knowing full well that his actions (or rather lack thereof) was a slow and silent punishment, he wouldn't change his mind.

Enough to offer a small prayer, he told himself that it only had to be this way for a little while.

 **[Elena]**

Cass and Nate had their hands full trying to regain control of Vicky while subsequently attempting to apologize to... the ship's sole crewman? Chloe had filled her in on the whole messy affair with Rafe Adler's daughter, from the time in the safe house to the kidnapping and all the way to the recovery of the young woman. What the other woman failed to mention was how this kid had fit into any part of the tale. Or had he been touched upon, and he just hadn't left a mark? Regardless, the rest of her immediate family was otherwise preoccupied, which left her free to lend a hand to the young woman.

Except... from what the former investigative reporter could gather, someone already had that angle covered. _A little too covered_. Dark as the clouds swirling in the distance, his normally unreadable eyes shifted away from the dock to scan the front of the house, yet nothing else was matching her brother-in-law's line of sight. Old leather worn in places and past the point of beginning to crack open, from what Elena could tell the shoes were pointed more inwards, towards the young heiress. Protective bearing making a great deal of sense, the signs hadn't ended there - circumstance a great cover, there was no reason to let his hands linger on her waist once the girl retained her balance, nor was it necessary to keep his own body pressed so close. Unless... Sam's gaze might not have been with the rest of the family, but the fact that it wasn't quite lining up with the rest of his body spoke volumes.

Maybe she was reading too much into a simple gesture, but the blonde felt it in her gut that she wasn't wrong about all this. Not the only one guilty of saying too much about the possible nature of things, the girl's body bent to reply on its own accord, meshing close to her protector. Weather a possible explanation for the prolonged proximity, there was so much more at work in the young woman's eyes as she allowed herself to be held steady. If she hadn't known any better, the now-legitimate adventurer could have sworn that a very adult look crossed the girl's face as everyone fussed with the dog, a cross between anguish and hope.

 _Oh Sam, what have you done?_

Wishing that she could close her eyes and just forget about what she thought she saw pass between the winter-summer pair, the blonde couldn't help but to suffer a saddened combination of horror, disapproval, and disappointment. As Nathan's wife - or perhaps it was just because of the kind soul she was - the journalist had a habit of granting her in-law credit where ever she could. Good a guy as he was capable of being, usually it ended with Sam doing what he wanted and then just leaving on his merry way once he'd had his fill. As a mother Elena didn't much care to think of the heiress in terms of being only so many years older than Cassie, but Daniella Adler was just a girl; a girl that had absolutely no idea of what she was getting herself into with the brunette.

A trait she'd had for far longer than she'd been a mom, she was more concerned about the heiress than she had been before. Being a teenager wasn't an easy thing by any means, what with finding yourself and the approach you wanted to take in the world (forget about discovering boys), so Elena could only imagine adding all the factors the young woman had had to contend with. Stepping up to the plate, the older of the two women pulled the Adler girl away from one of the lesser evils in her situation and off the dock without leaving much of an option. Calling over her shoulder, she ordered Sam to bring the luggage up to the house.

 **[Sam]**

Vaguely aware of his little sister saying something about getting Dells out of the cold and inside, before he could properly register what was happening Daniella had been yanked out of his grasp and he'd been left with the bags. As most of it was Rafael's, the thief was almost tempted to knock it into the churning water that had yet to calm, although if he did that then there went a good chunk of the medicine. Truthfully most all of it could be replaced within a day, but not easily or cheaply - until he got his hands on that payday coming his way, it was probably best to not incur needless debts.

Temptation resisted for the moment, the brunette figured he'd gotten a good one over on the kid by neglecting to mention that his brother's dog would probably go ballistic when they first met. Speaking of his little brother, he greeted his kin with a smile and a hug. "Been teaching Elena some of your old magic tricks? I could have sworn she and our guest were both here with us a moment ago. Cassie, your dad teach you the vanishing act too?"

His niece could care less about her dad's days as 'Nate the Great', whereas his younger sibling was the poster-child of amusement. "You know, I look forward to the day that you find someone special, just so I can pay you back for precious moments like these."

What dirt did Nathan think he had over his big brother? Sure, there were a few - _a few_ \- stories he could tell that didn't exactly put the better pickpocket in the best of lights, but no one was perfect. More importantly, the little punk had gone and lost his marbles if he honestly thought that such a parallel figure existed. "Hey, we can't all be as lucky as you and find someone like Elena." Shrugging off the fact that he wasn't exactly looking, he glanced sideways at his niece as she introduced herself to the tag along, "As much as I just hate to burst your bubble little brother, you'll be waiting a long time for that."

Knowing his big brother as well as he did, that was probably true. All the same, that didn't prevent the happily married father from reminding Sam about a certain little incident in Jaipur, "Brass platters ring a bell?" Whether they were good or bad, the thing about sharing experiences with another person was that each individual encounter built up a kind of secret shorthand, an inside joke or something so meaningful that it could be summed up in just a few short words. For the brothers, that trip was no exception.

"Enough said," cases swinging around as he threw his hands up in mock surrender, the brunette figured that that was not a story for Cassie's virgin ears, or Rafael for that matter, "I still don't think it was any worse than you and Sullivan in that town on the way to Lima, but I get it."

Stroll across the vacant stretch of beach cut short as the five came to the front porch, Vicky bounded up the stairs and through the open door, leaving the other four in her dust. There was probably a bowl or treat with her name on it. As for the humans, curious as Cassie was about the story her uncle hinted at she followed the pooch inside with the dog; questions quelled by a single look, her excuse had been something along the lines of her mom possibly needing help. "Doctor" Rafael in no rush one way or another, he merely tagged along with the impression that the Drake brothers would bring up the rear. Which was the case, more or less.

"Hey," Nathan swatted his sibling as they paused on the way, eyes on his daughter's back until he was certain that she was out of earshot, "Careful with that kind of talk. Cass still doesn't know anything about all of that." Everyone kept telling him it was only a matter of time until she found out the truth, and by all rights she was probably ready, but he kept dragging his heels all the same.

Asshole move bringing it up in front of his niece like that, Sam knew that it was the best way to catch his baby brother before they went inside with everyone else. "She won't hear about your illegal exploits from me..." If it had been anyone else, the dubious explorer easily would have blackmailed silence without a second thought, however since it was family he refrained from taking that approach. With family, it was an automatic win. "Just like Dells won't hear about Rafe from anyone but myself."

"Jesus, Sam!" While the story of the first time he had gotten truly good and drunk wasn't anything his little girl (or wife for that matter) needed to hear, Nate saw the truth about Rafe's final days as the exact opposite scenario. In other words, the heiress not only had every right to be clued in, she _needed_ to be told. "She doesn't know?! How can she not know?!"

Weary of the fact that Rafael hadn't exactly made himself scarce in any great hurry, the grizzled brunette wasn't entirely positive that he hadn't overheard - at least Nathan had kept it vague. Following by example, the brothers joined the party and found the young man with Elena and Dells, "tending" to his patient no doubt. Still just the tiniest bit irked that the young woman hadn't flatly rebuffed the transparent play of false affection, the historian spitefully mused that she was probably savoring every last drop of attention.

Rafe would have.


	42. Somebody Get This Girl A Barber

**\- Chapter Thirty-Eight -**

 **Somebody Get This Girl A Barber (Or Even A Linguist Would Be Fine)**

Invited in with a warm smile that was so much deeper than the flesh, a dizzy Daniella shambled in alongside Elena, her head moving this way and that to take in her new surroundings. One might think that after spending so much time in hotel rooms appearances wouldn't matter, and that might have been true, if this cozy abode didn't remind her so strongly of Mama's place in Maui. Light, breezy, perfectly spread out, and everything anyone could ever want in the summer, the heiress genuinely dug the setup, although she had no clue how to express that without coming off as snobbish or condescending. No, it wasn't in her top five places she'd want to model her dream home after, but the girl thought it was charming and... well, unlike Mama's polished and photo-ready getaway, it felt like a real home.

Aware that it was common courtesy to offer a compliment AND guilty of not catching a name on the blonde that had zipped her away, for all her lessons Daniella wasn't quite sure how to break the ice. What could she say? An introduction was also in order, but Sam hadn't explicitly stated that she could just go around using her real name around these people - as a matter of fact he hadn't said a whole lot since she'd waken up - so what did that leave her with? The place was legitimately her idea of cute, and she was deeply grateful that this appeared to be a temporary safe haven, however would any of that even suffice at this point?

Saved from her dilemma by the increasingly insistent swaying of the earth joining forces with the gravitational master of all, the heiress stumbled sideways as a yellow streak darted in from the front door to follow an invisible path deeper inside. The dog from earlier, or the kid? As if it mattered. Graceful as ever, Sleeping Beauty had nearly knocked the woman over as well; thankfully the blonde had a much better sense of balance and had caught them both before there was a collapse of limbs.

"Thorry... err, sornks..." Tongue-tied and jumbled in more ways than one, she tried again, "Thank you. And I'm sorry. I... I haven't felt like myself for a while now..."

Apologizing at once, the etiquette classes forced on the young woman were strongly suggesting in the back of her mind that there were probably a handful of other things to add to the list. Her pitiful and heavily distressed state for a start, being less invited and more dragged along (not to mention the circumstances being less than ideal), and more importantly coveting what wasn't hers. Alright, so maybe it didn't make much sense to have that last one on the receipt, but it wasn't like the situation saw her at the top of her game, or even playing with half a deck for that matter.

"Oh," taking his self-prescribed role of doctor very seriously, Rafael chimed in, "that's probably just the effects of the Telazol and morphine." Crawling the wrong way at the sudden contact despite hearing his voice first, Daniella still practically jumped out of her skin when she realized that a third person was at her elbow. Assuming that their professional arrangement continued (and from where she was standing there was no reason it should stop), the heiress hoped that his touch would become more familiar over the course of time. "A little disorientation is to be expected." The way he spoke, it was clearly with the presumption that she was merely referring to the past few days in general.

"Morphine...?" What the hell was that first one, Telazol he said? Her inner bookworm didn't have the faintest of what that was, but she had heard of morphine (who hadn't?). And at least now that much now made a world of sense from what she could remember reading about of the side effects of the drug, although it didn't do much to comfort her. "I see."

Wait a pretty little minute! All that blood unfurling scarlet and ruby in the bathwater, waking up with additional stitches from what Ang... what had happened with the Orange Tiger, could the controlled substance have been the bookends to this latest episode of lost time? Dots connecting one by one in her head as she was seated, the phrase 'if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck' came to mind. So if that was the case and she'd been dosed up, could this have anything to do with why Sam was avoiding her? Did he blame himself?

"But..." trailing off as she muttered to herself, Dells hadn't realized that she had spoken aloud, not immediately, "I'm the one that..."

Concerned about his patient, the sign of her father pressed the back of his hand to her forehead to check on her temperature. When he opened his mouth, it was more towards the pretty vision than to the potentially delirious bankroll, "Mumbling to yourself? That's not normal. At least I don't think it is..." Hopefully, being so much older than he was, the woman would have a more concrete answer on what was out of the ordinary for someone just coming out of a morphine coma.

She did not.

Really! Annoyed by the false conclusions masquerading as concern when she probably ought to have been counting her blessings, the final straw was the woman. Already staring with nothing but pity in her kind hazel eyes, it all became to much to bear in docile silence! _Poor little rich mess_ , she must have been thinking, _product of money and abandonment. Auctioned off like one of the antiquities of yesteryear to the highest bidder and broken in the move - better talk to the guy footing the bill or else hope he doesn't notice._

Or was the melancholic gaze because she caught - or at least thought she did - something in the way the thief and the heiress interacted? Dismissing that as impossible, the moment had come and gone too fast. And anyways, what could there possibly have been to imagine in those few brief seconds on the dock? Could this shining gold saint have witnessed the hope come alive in Daniella's eyes when they touched, or had she seen the cruel imitation reveal itself in the breath that caught in her chest? Perhaps the beautiful stranger had only heard the young woman's knees buckle, the bone and remaining sinew turning to mush in an instant that could never last? Suspending further disbelief, maybe this divine goddess was empathic and/or had an eye for seeing the overcast shadows of doubt lift only to crash back down harder than necessary?

However you wanted to spin it, the long and short of it was that the very moment that Sam's arms wrapped around her, Daniella was ready to forget and forgive the cold shoulder. In fact, the truth was that there wasn't a lot that she wouldn't have forgiven in that instant, but that was fairy tale again, and this was the real world, where she had to feel what was left of her mortal coil whither from his ice. She knew that that was probably wrong, that this was just going to be another Jay all over again, that it was already too late to change her fate. For the moment at least, that infernal contract for her soul was on the table and just awaiting a signature.

 _Was this almost hypnotic slow-drip attraction what Mama had felt the first time she laid her eyes on Daddy? Because it sure sounded like it. God she hoped not._

Speaking of the devil, Sam himself came into the room the same instant realization took hold, and he wasn't alone. Obviously it wasn't her father miraculously risen from the dead after all this time, however this model wasn't so hard on the eyes... Despite being a hair shorter and of a slightly different build, it was plain to see that the younger (and more groomed) of the two was the thief's blood. Admittedly a part of her wanted to see an exact replica like she had in a dream, but that never ended well in any universe, so it was for the best that she saw the other man as his own person and not as as clone. All in all, this younger sibling was kinda cute in his own right - especially for being a dad - but she still preferred the older one.

Ditching the mismatched carry-on at the first available opportunity no doubt - that is if he had even bothered with them in the first place - the brunette turned his attention to his brother. Honestly the heiress wasn't too bothered by where the luggage had vanished to, because the rational side of her brain that actually paid attention to those little details figured that if there was anything for her to change into, it had probably been picked out by Miss Chloe. _Oh Christ no!_

The ravenette had fine enough taste in clothes when it came to herself; not forgetting the exchange they'd shared in the car before all of this had spiraled out of control, Daniella was honestly a little scared of what she would find. Hopefully it would just be something basic to blend in, ideally with a modest cut that covered just about everything, but something told her that there would be at least one top in the bunch that was meant to tease. All in good fun, of course, but 'fun' wasn't quite an option just yet. Although, maybe now that she looked like some old Sally Stein, it would be fine...?

Funnily enough, Dells had the hunch that she wouldn't be so lucky. Unless maybe someone else had already gone through the bags and discovered anything that the older woman had meant for her to find... "Um, pardon me, do you have a bathroom I could use?"

It was the girl that answered, pointing the way to the first door on the right-hand side, "The going rate is usually twenty-five cents, but considering inflation," tilting her bespectacled head back a few degrees, she pretended to crunch the numbers, "I think we're looking at a good five bucks."

"Yeesh." Despite having his own designs to pull the same trick on the shrew that called herself a businesswoman (only on a considerably larger scale once everything was said and done), Sam sucked in the air through his teeth as if the decision affected him personally. Although in a way, it kind of did. "A little Harsh, don't you think Cass?"

Unsure if this Cass was being serious about the fee or not, his playful banter wasn't making it any clearer. On a good day the young woman might have gotten that they were just messing around, as the Drakes tended to do, however her head was beginning to pound against her skull. Also, the need to pee was very much a real thing. "I don't..." Knees knocking together as she rose and made to just barge in if absolutely necessary, Daniella looked to the other adults for salvation. "I really need to go."

Sighing at the joke, the blonde woman motioned her on, "Go. Cassie's just being her wisecracking self."

"Wow," still avoiding Daniella's general direction as he gazed fondly across the front room, the thief turned to his niece's parents as his own charge splintered away from the rest, "this must be a real relief for you little brother-"

"One more thing?" Cutting across Sam with no outward display of remorse, the young woman addressed her companions with forced cool that she wasn't even remotely close to feeling, "Can I see our bags? Do we have any bags?"

Lugging everything in without so much as a single thank you, the brunette was left with no other option as the toady, so he replied with the minimal amount of effort and merely jerked his thumb over his shoulder to the door. If he had been stung by how rudely she passed to retrieve the cases or was even the tiniest bit flustered that she had nothing else to say, he hid it rather well. _Jerk._ "Where was I? Oh yeah, as I was saying, this must be a real relief for you little brother, not having to-"

Business taken care off outside the restroom, Daniella closed the bathroom door with a moody snap.

Armed with all of three suitcases and one extremely battered messenger bag that was decorated with a number of pins, she figured that two people on the run wouldn't need that much space between them, so at least one of these belonged to Rafael. Name something she might never fully get over if truth be told, the heiress felt guilty for rummaging through his things... Although if he was just going to be so careless as to not secure anything important that he wanted to keep secret, the invasion of privacy was really on him. Yeah, that's what she told herself as she opened the first storage container.

Glacier blue, marked in a faded sable with the initials A.P., and the only real suitcase in the various assortment, the first thing Daniella found was the medical supplies. Gauze, syringes, plastic tubey-things, everything seemed like proper healing instruments, which made her recall the sounds of silver slashing through the darkness, the coppery taste of bile and blood that filled her mouth when she bit her tongue. The laughter as she was ripped open, piece by little piece...

Quickly sealing the case up with all possible haste, a breather was required before anything else from that period came back to the surface. Once she was as close to good as she was gonna get, Dells was on to the second unit. A forest green hiking pack in a former life, much of the tawny lining was home to dislodged pine needles; the majority of the contents were a jumble of clothes, one article of which appeared to be a bra. At least she prayed that that was what the pink lacy thing was. Foolishly braving further explanation, the young woman found a handful of travel-size toiletries in the side pockets, including a handful of liners. Thank the gods!

Finished with her business and satisfied by what she had found (and more so by what she hadn't), Daniella set the final two bags aside. Another day, perhaps.

Trippy polychromatic sink something to see, the tired young woman washed her hands, used the purple plastic toothbrush from the backpack, and splashed some of the cold water across her face before gazing into the mirror. Terrified of what would be waiting for her in her reflection, it was no accident that it had taken this long to look at herself since being kidnapped. Or had it been longer than that even? Hands trembling as she gripped the outer corner of the counter for support, the Adler heiress made herself really look at the monster she'd become.

On the bright side, it looked like the sutures in her head were ready to be removed. As for the rest...

Miserable on a cellular level as well as mentally, Daniella appeared as worn as she felt, her skin a good shade paler than it had been before she'd ever learned Mama's truth. Frail, feeble, literally every sorry descriptive word under the known sun came to mind to describe her countenance, because of course. Adjectives in no short supply, her muscle tone was all but gone; considering that she had been out for the better part of weeks, that was hardly surprising. In fact, it was probably a miracle that she hadn't atrophied.

Never the biggest fan of what she saw staring back, if the mirror hadn't belonged to someone she had every confidence that she would have busted it. How that feat would be accomplished, she wasn't entirely sure, but it wasn't like there was anything redeeming about her face.

Mama always said that with enough effort, there could have been something salvageable - frankly she didn't see it herself - something to attract the opposite sex. Marriage wasn't exactly a priority that was pushed in their house, but Dells figured that her mother saw it as healthy to get out there on the field. One to have it both ways where she could, recent experience told her that Mama would undoubtedly freak out if she ever caught her daughter in a compromising position... Whoa boy, if the bespectacled beauty only knew about the kinds of things that interested her little girl...!

Practically speaking, while all of this damage to her mortal shell was almost enough to give pause to the average passerby, there wasn't nearly enough to make it harder to see her for the heiress on the TV. The thought of adding to the toll did cross Daniella's mind in truth - quite strongly at that - however something told her this was neither the time nor the place. It may have sounded strange, especially considering everything, but Dells felt safe here - she couldn't begin to explain it (okay, maybe the fact that this was Sam's family had something to do with it), it was just a gut feeling. Except this was obviously only a temporary sanctuary on the journey, not a forever fix.

What was forever anyways?

Returning to the backpack for a third time, among the can of spare lighter fluid and other odds and ends the young woman also discovered a folded pocket knife. Setting the blade on the counter, it was clear what needed to be done.

Offering a prayer to the fallen soldier, she undid the knot at her neck and allowed the hair to tumble freely down her shoulders and back. Like most girls, Daniella had been growing her hair out since at least elementary school, and like most of those, she hadn't expected to part from her silent identifier. But it needed to happen. Grieving period fairly short, the girl hacked mercilessly at the rich coffee-colored locks until they came away free in her fist. Getting a tad bit ahead of herself, step three would be the acquisition and immediate application of hair dye; in the meantime, step two consisted of getting assistance in straightening her messy lop job.

Tucking a newly shortened strand behind her ear, she smartened up the scene before leaving the bathroom.


	43. Why, When, And Who

**\- Chapter Thirty-Nine -**

 **Why, When, And Who**

Or had she?

 **[Into The Mind Of A Journalist]**

"She's been in there an awfully long time..." hesitation and worry interlacing intricately into an uneasy marriage, Elena left the sentence to hang in the air as she sized up her companions for their opinions.

Well, the adult ones - Cassie had made herself scarce, although she'd probably just wandered off to her room because nothing was happening in a hurry. Being that this entire ordeal was hitting dangerously close to the old days, that was probably for the best. Anyway, she'd probably pop back into the picture once things got interesting; she usually did. One could even argue Cass had an unusual knack for being in the right place at the right time. _The luck of the Drakes_.

As each member of the family had their own bathroom, Nathan was no stranger to the amount of time a person could take in the restroom, so he seemed largely unresponsive to the situation. Non-situation? _Please just let it be nothing_. Gathered together in a cluster at the front sitting area, her spouse was more preoccupied with the armrest than he was with his brother's work. Nate and staying still were never going to be on speaking terms, and she was okay with that. What the older blonde was less alright with was that he had seemed to wash his hands of this whole affair.

Parents concerned for the wellbeing and safety of their daughter, neither Nathan nor Elena were instantly on board with Sam bringing his work home with him, however when they'd thought it was just Daniella that would be visiting, it didn't seem too risky. After all, there wasn't a universe around where they couldn't deal with a single teenage girl. And that was taking into consideration the fact that she was Rafe Adler's daughter no less. What wasn't being weighed, apparently, was just how much pain that girl was in. Even in her head she didn't like to play the card, but truthfully the woman thought that her husband would have been more sympathetic given his own background. Instead he'd rather pay more attention to the enigmatic "doctor" (which in another light was probably for the best).

Mouth falling ever so slightly as she shifted a hair closer to the guest bath, Elena wished she could read Nathan's mind. Still reeling from the discovery that Rafe had had a family, she doubted he was honestly this indifferent. He was just too good a guy. Unless if maybe his focus was more on that Rafael kid for a reason? Inviting and generous spirits at their cores, by nature they were a the-more-the-merrier type of family, so neither was the sort to get hung-up on suspicion. True, it would be lying to say that the thought hadn't occurred, but that just went with the territory.

Nothing to be gleaned for certain at face-value, monetary compensation was the most logical of motivations (after all, it was Sam's end game, right?), yet there was just no knowing. Claiming to be the younger brother of a veterinarian from the city, this Rafael Paredes could have been anyone or anything! A serial murderer, a petty thief, or just a run-of-the-mill charlatan. Or maybe nothing remarkable at all. While that was entirely possible, how often had that been the case in their adventures?

Young man engaging in meaningless pleasantries with Nathan - weather, how long have they lived in this beautiful home, that type of thing - he had seemed to be cautious of the girl's health when they first arrived. Now that she had bravely played the part of being capable of managing a simple task on her own, much of that tenderness had evaporated. Perhaps he was merely attempting to savior a moment to himself, she really couldn't say at this point. For the child's sake, she sincerely hoped that that was the case, that this wasn't yet another hurdle to send her careening down the same path as her father.

Speaking of Rafe and dark paths, that just left Sam. Unable to completely forget just how _dedicated_ to a cause he could be, seeing as the brunette had invested so much thus far, Elena thought her brother-in-law would know better on this one. Four weeks (give or take) wasn't a terribly long time by any stretch of the imagination, however it had been enough that the elder Drake could pretend that he had gotten to know the young woman. Or at least know her well enough.

Equally encouraged by the unspoken closeness the thief and heiress had fleetingly displayed on the dock, Elena's inner journalist directed the inquiry in his direction. "Do you think we should go check on her?"

Intentions aside, that certainly got everyone's attention.

Despite being a father that had been there for his daughter every step of the way, a panicky Nate was predictably quick to bow out. In his head it was probably wiser to leave the matter to a more feminine influence. "What if she's just changing? You saw her bring in all those bags, 'Lena."

As the treating physician, it stood to reason that young Mr. Paredes had been responsible for the various sutures almost visible beneath the wide hem of the girl's billowing cotton shift. Reports of what had befallen victims of the Orange Tiger leading the imagination to what might have been hidden below the over-sized gown, it was more than easy to assume that the surgeon had seen the heiress in a delicate state before. Yet for whatever reason, he too declined to spring to action.

"Miss Adler is a trauma patient - this is likely just her mind catching up to her reality." Face almost the perfect mask of stoicism but for the smallest of chinks in his armor, the blonde figured that he would act if it was absolutely necessary, but it wasn't high on his list of priorities. _Just what is your game?_

Once more it came back full circle to Sam.

Rafael may not have been in any great rush to seek out his patient, however, when the options ran out it became transparent that he was paying better attention than he let on. Tilting his head almost quizzically towards his traveling companion, the young man was quick to chime in with his two cents. "I think that's your cue, friend. After all," hint of something deeper between the two men, it was nigh impossible to miss the sting shaded beneath the frosted chill, "Daniella knows you so well, Samuel. You're so _comfortable_."

 _Daniella? Not Miss Adler? Interesting_...

"Fine." In spite of his gruff tone and refusal to so much as turn his head towards the spare bathroom, she noted that the historian had accepted the task a little too easily. Funnily enough, Elena wasn't entirely asking anyone else to go, merely if they thought she was worrying for nothing. "It's not like this would be the first time."

Word choice - or in this case lack thereof - was Nate's first major clue that the relationship his brother had with his client wasn't purely innocent. Never fully able to get the entire story out of her spouse (although she'd heard enough), the one-time reporter imagined that living another lifetime with his brother like he had, there was a whole plethora of dirty deeds that came to mind. None of which would have left the elder smelling like roses. Just a kid himself, it was doubtful that Nathan was much better, but at least he had grown up since then.

Taking a deep breath before her own bias colored the case against her in-law, the blonde shoved away all memory of something that might have happened a few years back. Keyword being _MIGHT_.

Called for after a couple of years radio silence, the guys had come together to take a well-earned boys night; Elena didn't know any of the exact details, but she had pieced together a picture, and it wasn't good. Or entirely legal. As a working father with a full plate, the younger Drake had ended up tapping out relatively early, but the same couldn't be said for the rest. According to Charlie the charges were dubious at best; whatever the truth was, all Elena knew was that everyone had been barred from a chain of hotels in Vegas, at least two different casinos, and a wedding chapel. All in one night. Nate wasn't perfect either, but at least he hadn't been the one drunkenly hitting on the nineteen year old daughter of an Elvis impersonator.

Armrest no longer captivating his every last ounce of attention, the younger Drake was forced to do a double-take as the lanky figure rose from his perch. Accusation one of many thoughts and emotions to befall the deep reflecting ponds that were his dazzling true blues, the former thief could only stare at his sibling. It wasn't often that Nate was rendered speechless, however this was certainly one of those times.

But was he more bothered by the fact that the girl was so much closer in age to Cassie than any of Sam's other _friends_ had been, or could the bigger issue be boiled down to who the young woman was? Rather, who she was related to? For as well as she knew her husband after all these years, even Elena couldn't be certain.

Shrewed enough to read the sudden shift in the climate, Rafael interjected out of seemingly nowhere, "If I may, I believe there's been some miscommunication." Accent smooth as a river of fine silk and bearing as calm as they came, it was difficult to believe that he wasn't a licensed professional. "Unfortunate as it is, mi amigo is referring to something that happened on the way over here. You see, Miss Adler accidentally broke a few of her more serious stitches whilst taking a bath, and Sam was an integral part of her recovery."

The explanation was so clinical, cold almost, yet it was the fact that he had reverted back to the more formal usage of the young woman's surname that stuck out. At least that was the sore thumb for Elena. Wanting to always see the best in his brother, Nathan visibly settled down; judging from how slowly he took his eyes off his brother, there might've still been some some doubt left over. More than a tad peeved at being volunteered for the job, Sam seemed genuinely surprised when the script had flipped and Rafael actually covered for him. It was a small and momentary break in the tattooed brunette's scowl, however the blonde caught it without too much effort.

Just what was going on with those two? Or better yet, the three of them? Well so long as it didn't spill over and impact Cassie, the woman supposed they could sort that all out at their own leisure. Unless of course one of their party wasn't fit to carry on with the routine...

 **[Sam Called Dibs On This Game]**

Already on her feet and that much closer to the bathroom than the rest, Elena succumbed to the little bug that whispered into her ear the suggestion to check on Dells herself. And that would have been perfectly alright by Sam, if all her pestering hadn't already led up to some big thing. Perfectly comfortable prior to being pushed into action, perhaps it was bit unfair to saddle his little sister with the blame, seeing as it was inevitable that she would follow her curiosities through to their natural conclusions. Or was it merely maternal instinct? Whatever it was that had kicked this all off, the ex-con was simply ticked-off.

Irked that he had to get up to play the hero yet again, insulted by the designs of the blight and further salted by the princess entertaining them before they had even landed, the brunette had only gotten increasingly more pissed the longer the day wore on. Blows and verbal jabs he could take - even before losing thirteen years in Panama, Sam had taught himself to endure - but all the little inconveniences on top of the betrayal was proving too hard a pill to swallow.

Rafael was getting on his last nerve, and it was made all the more infuriating when the good doctor had opted to back him up when Nate began to question what was going on. The hell had that been about?! All things considered he probably should have been grateful for the save, but he never asked for it! Maybe for the kid it was all about his kicks, but for Sam it was starting to feel dangerously close to personal. This was _his_ family, Dells was _his_... his... Well Sam met her first!

Temper shorter than the fuse on one of Captain Avery's mummy bombs, the brunette figured that since he had been roused for the job he might as well do it. If the blonde wanted to play support, by all means she had every right.

Dells might not appreciate it but-

 _Shit!_

Everything between the pair in the hotel bathroom had heated so rapidly and with such intensity that it was far from a cinch to recall how it had all began. Sweet little heiress, pretty little clone, nasty little temptress with a dirty mouth, things spiraled out of control faster than water out of a drain. Rewinding to a time before the bloody flower, before the fawning limbs and his wet shirt, there was just a girl terrified to be left alone - after narrowly escaping what she had, who could blame her? _How could you be so careless?!_

Heartless Lamia in disguise, Bai would have called what he discovered "the scene of a horrible crime", however the reality was that it would have been better described as a mental break-down.

Pocket knife abandoned on the tile, strands of dark locks trailing over the edge of the waste basket like spider legs, technically Elena had arrived on the scene first and was already over the girl. Witnessing the same exact things as her brother-in-law, obviously the woman had made a beeline for the frail creature huddled in the corner. Body racked with tremors and voice scarce more than a single long sob, Daniella must have realized the same thing he had and subsequently had a panic attack.

"Why did you leave me alone?" Too distraught to be a proper accusation, her hands clutched blindly at the body in front of her; terrified so badly that she couldn't tell who she was speaking to, Dells shook her head from side-to-side, "Why? Y-you said we could work something out... You promised me. Sam, you promised me..."

Mother card not even applicable for this one, Elena pulled the heiress into her arms. She didn't know the girl, and the motion was impeded somewhat by the placement of the toilet, but it was quite possibly the first 100% genuine thing Daniella had ever experienced in her life. Bai meant well in the beginning he supposed, and Rafe might have had a moment with the child, but Sam believed the heiress when she had told him that she had no one. That didn't seem fair.

Lesson learned long ago that life was the least compassionate dealer you will ever meet, the gambling conman almost thought that it was funny he would compare the girl to his little brother with said sibling only a few feet away. It wasn't the first time he'd seen Daniella in a similar light to the ball of floof that Nathan had been, but with everything that had happened it seemed like a comparison that had run its course. Apparently not - Sleeping Beauty was just something that he had to protect, just like he had had to look after his little brother.

So then should he really be looking at her the way he did?

 **[A Shorn Doll]**

"Please," imploring from a sincere place, as the young woman clung to Elena she began to see a little bit clearer, "please don't leave me again. I'm not strong enough, not yet... Please, I... I..." Struggling in more ways than one, the last Adler gave, "I can't."

Blinking, it had taken a few moments to piece together that the person that held her wasn't nearly the same general shape, that the skin was softer and the frame considerably shorter than herself, not taller. _That blonde woman?_ On one hand, at least this meant that there was someone else there with her, but on the other Daniella was really only comfortable with one individual in particular. Still, almost anybody was better than no one at all. If there was no one...

Mama would be so disappointed in her. More importantly, her father would have been disgusted by all the weakness she allowed to rule her life these past couple of weeks. The last thing she wanted was to let her daddy down, but surely he would have understood a little bit, if he knew everything that was happening in her life. Right?

That was probably the cue for her to shake this hideous display off, to brush away the dust and take back that fire that burned so fleetingly in her belly. Mama would have demanded it, Daddy would have desired it of her, and she herself would have liked to be that confident woman that knew what to do. Too many times she'd broken, and too many times she'd broken her promise to be better, so how many more instances like this would she need to be that ideal version of herself?

 _I'm not strong enough, not yet._ Well now seemed like a pretty damn good time to try to change that.


	44. Her Mouth

**\- Chapter Forty -**

 **Her Mouth**

Pavement a twisting shale serpent spanning miles in either direction, the dusted Phantom Drophead Coupé sped through deary countryside that hadn't changed in over an hour. Longer even, if pit stops were taken into account.

Sunflower stalks pointed the way along the guard rails, petals yellow as a solar flare seen through an antique sepia filter. Floofs of cottonwood danced through the sultry summer air, flatlands and fields sweeping the terrain like a motionless sea of jade and emerald. Landscape throwing out the occasional gust of wind that picked up tawny-white sands and carried them across the vast expanse of green, the only animal to be seen was some variation of cattle. Boring as boring could get. All the same, with the tinted windows rolled down just a crack to let in some fresh air, even the slightest change was welcome after hours of being couped up in the car with only his aide for company.

Atmospheric music was being played softly in the background - currently Placebo's _Post Blue_ \- through the opaque partition. Heady beat littering the few fleeting miliseconds of dead space between the pair, regretfully it was turned down so low that it was all but drowned out by business jargon otherwise. It wasn't his favorite song by any means, but that was the downside to the shuffle feature.

"Rafe?" Calling his name out a touch more shortly than was called for, the woman would have done the classic hands-to-hips pose if she hadn't been balancing all their work on her lap. "Are you still listening? This is really important."

 _If it was that important, it would have come up before one of the other seventy-one items on the agenda,_ the businessman thought to himself with a grumpy glance at his watch.

Mind kneading together the scream the woman had used while trapped under collapsed rubble and the terrible shriek emitted when told she'd have to fly some place, Rafe entertained the notion of throwing the woman out of the moving vehicle. She'd jumped once before and had survived, but the key difference was that the car had basically been in park, not doing what he guesstimated to be at least 70 mph.

Ugly as the press could have been, the reality would have been far worse: if he were to lose her now, he'd be stuck with their shared offspring permanently. Sweet as the temporary freedom from all the jabber would be, the reward didn't outweigh the consequences. Although if she kept at this same mechanical pace, he might just change his mind.

Wavering her on, instead of listen the multi-billionaire let his mind wander to what progress might have been made in his absence. Samuel had sounded so confident in his new theory that one couldn't help but to be hopeful.

"-Belgium office is still bitter about the whole affair." Unaware that she had lost her boss, Bai steam-rolled ahead, "Furthermore, the latest reports indicate that several of the lower-level workers are starting to rumble about a strike. Greed is all it is, but thanks to the nature of the front, we have to suffer the headache of unions." Sighing, she pinched the bridge of her nose, just above her glasses, "The really frustrating part is that even though we're at the head of the table, this is a middle-management problem and needs to be sorted in-house."

Blah, blah, blah, something about a strike. His family might have been generous to the international operations and owned them in spirit and name, but it sounded to him like a problem someone else needed to handle, someone that actually had to live with these troublemakers. "Just have Michel deal with it."

 _Michel_. Just hearing the name was enough to sour her mood. "Ha, he's incompetent on a good day! But..." Trailing off purposefully, if Rafe had been paying better attention he would have realized sooner that something was weighing on her mind. "My proposal was to speak directly to those that are being problematic, offer them a generous bonus in addition to the promise to talk about staff working conditions. Being stubborn for the sake of it, Michel insists that silence is the best option for now. Obviously nipping the problem in the bud would be best, but no, thanks to that disaster in Brussels, he won't hear a word I say! Even when I told him in as polite a manner as I could that what happens here could be detrimental to the outcome of our contract."

Only half-listening by then, the sole reason he could give her that much was because she made it impossible to focus. When it wasn't being done intentionally, there was just something in her voice, a kind of frequency that he couldn't block out no matter how hard he tried. _Funny how thin the line between love and hate could be._ Originally, being stuck in the car with Bai had its advantages, but being trapped and forced to talk about business for the last four hours had him wondering why he'd ever agreed to this form of travel in the first place.

"And was that over the phone or in person? Michel is a notorious-"

Upset transparent in every octave and written plain across her face, Bai didn't set the briefcase full of files on the floor so much as throw it, "Oh, I know _exactly_ what that old pervert is! But please, do tell me what you've only _heard_! " Genuinely distressed by the memory and aching for support, as the woman looked her partner in the eye, she twisted around in the seat and clasped his leg, "You know my thresholds better than I do, but when he just asked me to..." Shivering, the woman broke off.

"To what?" Sympathy was a word lacking in Rafe Adler's vocabulary, among a few others, but jealousy and ownership were two concepts he understood very very well. Technically he knew that he couldn't claim Bai the same way he could any of the marvelous material belongings in his home, however that hadn't prevented the millionaire from viewing the woman as being his and his alone.

Words catching in her throat, it crossed the businesswoman's mind that she had said too much. Michel was an extreme, but far from an exception to what she encountered in her work. Maybe at this point she had earned enough slack to complain to the one person with the clout to do something about the situation, yet did she really want to go crying to Rafe? Bai had endured far worse than the likes of this one asshole, and she knew that there would only be more.

Now that she had said this much, there was no taking the words back. Oh well, little losses were acceptable in the grand scheme of things. "...Pretty much what the rumors say. I'd tell you forget it, but we both know that you won't." Honestly it almost made the woman swoon that she had someone so willing to tear apart a man for her. "I suppose I just assumed I was better than that." A smirk tugged at the corner of her deep raspberry smile, and her lashes fluttered just a little more than they would have naturally. "Untouchable."

More to the story, saying the rest out loud would have only served to anger the both of them.

For her first meeting with Michel, she had worn the dress Rafe had picked out for her; going a step above, she'd even had her hair done and donned some of her nicest jewels. Treasured as each piece in the private collection was, it wasn't often that the business woman adorned her person for the rest of the world to see. In hindsight, all that effort had probably sent the wrong message, but it was how these affairs went.

What didn't often happen was a twenty minute wait at the gate as his people checked her clearance - everyone knew who Bai was, either by reputation or by by sight, but she was known. Adding insult to injury, after an excruciating dinner of rebuffed attempts and unsolicited innuendos, her host had lost all semblance of grace and pawed at her as if she herself were an offer! Those days were long gone, and frankly the miserable old bastard was lucky all he suffered was a dinner fork through his thigh.

"Bai..." Unsure what precisely to say, the fortunate hunter lowered some of the walls between them and offered what comfort he could. Lips pressing into the side of her skull almost sweetly, he made an unspoken promise that this situation would be dealt with one way or another. If it fell on him, Michel would truly know what it was to be sorry.

Always a fine line to have such a beautiful woman making deals in his name, the Adler approach was to have the speaker cleaned up and dressed to the nines. Deeply possessive over the conquests that meant something, the problem Rafe encountered was that he never knew how often she had allowed it to go as far as all of that. On three separate occasions he had hired an actor to test her loyalties, but to her credit the woman had been prepared enough to know the faces and names of each of his business associates. On his fourth and most recent attempt, despite the great lengths he'd gone through to sell the lie, his shrewd associate not only saw through the charade but alway reminded him why she had been selected in the first place.

Pissed enough to rain fire and brimstone from the heavens when she saw her lover next, there was no denying that she was good.

Shocked (and secretly pleased) as she may have been at the show of affection, the fire that had been lit wasn't going to go to waste. "Shall I tell you how the subsequent meetings went, or would your rather keep what I so masterfully do a mystery?" It was a rhetorical question, because she gave no breathing room for him to even consider it, "I straightened that out with some rather fine silverware. He'd learned his lesson about what he said to me from that point on, and for a minute I actually thought all would be well."

 _And then Brussels happened._

"Michel would be on my shortlist for replacement, were he not a distant cousin on your maternal grandfather's side."

Honestly Rafe had long since given up questioning how she could possibly remember so much at once. "So what if he's a distant relative? Deal with him if he's so disruptive to your work." What was this, her first day on the job? Bai knew better than to come crying to him about problems she was perfectly capable of handling herself. "Kill him and find a suitable replacement to take his place, like you did with Abraham." Abraham wasn't family that he was aware of, but so far as Rafe was concerned, if anyone touched what was rightfully his, it was fair game.

"I... do have someone in mind, actually." Bitting her lip, the woman came clean about what was really on her mind, "I don't know, it's just that now that we have Daniella, cleaning up the family tree actually feels like it matters."

Wait a minute, not realizing the exact moment she'd gotten him fully engaged in the conversation, it finally clicked in that Bai had been building up to something this the entire time. Clever girl.

"That first time, I must confess that I was honestly scared you would hate me for pulling the trigger. But when the bullet left the gun, all of that went away, and everything was in the moment in a way I've never experienced since." Recalling an event neither ever referenced, she forgot the present and was once more transported to the past, "It felt so good, so freeing! Part of me knew it was wrong, but with you there... God," purring in the back of her throat at the memory, she nuzzled closer to Rafe, bringing his arms around her waist in the process, "it felt so good! When I close my eyes I can still remember the look on his face when you stepped out and took my hand. The surprise that slowly shifted to understanding, the regret and resignation that came just before the light faded in his eyes. Do you remember?"

As a matter of fact, he did. That night had never been spoken of since, but it was so clearly etched into his mind that it might as well have just happened. It was in the garden, the greenhouse in the center of mother's maze garden to be exact, the late summer breeze rolling through before the rains came. Unbidden, Rafe could even still hear the crickets chirping from unseen vantage points, smell the wild roses that crept along the glass walls. He always hated that place, because it seemed more important than he had.

Bai had been ordered to report in one last time, a death sentence for betraying her masters, but she'd done favorably enough that it was to be a dignified affair. Personally Rafe would have just dealt with her treasonous acts on the spot, however he was the reason that she had gone rogue, and everyone knew it. According to his mother's journals, she suspected that there was more to the story than anyone knew, that her own husband was going to spare the hired gun if she confessed to her folly and took his unspecified deal. As mother wasn't around to clarify her meaning, Rafe assumed that his mother thought father had an eye for the younger woman; it certainly wouldn't have been the first time his eye had wandered, but if that was the truth it was a one-sided love affair.

A mere bodyguard no more, Bai was his, and no one else's.

Then she went and ruined that by having a baby. Even now Rafe was less than fond of the idea that he had to share the woman, but he supposed that it was inevitable.

Growing cold for just a moment, almost as if their minds had arrived at the same place at the same exact moment, she struggled to shake the thought away. Again, that was a natural reaction to bringing up that unspoken period of their lives. Obviously the woman mourned for what had been lost along the way, would always mourn it, however he had closed it off from his mind. Yes, at the time there had been some difficulty for the man in accepting what had happened, but the reality was that playing house just wasn't in the cards. _Go figure_.

Swallowing the pill early on that theirs would never be a conventional romance, Bai had almost been destroyed by the loss, and as he'd recently discovered, she carried it to this day. Cocaine was the real villain in the story, the main culprit behind the scenes, yet there had been a moment she had had unfairly accused him and his indifference. Granted it was something he'd never told her before that fight, but he had just as affected as she had been. Everything could have been set right, could have been done better in the still-smoldering ashes of his own father.

Just as he was ready to push her away from the resentment, the dark-haired beauty brought herself closer, breathing him in as she curled against his chest. "You know how that night ended, but have I ever told you how it began?" Lost to the stars that had been shining in the sky, the woman resumed with a dreamy sigh, "We'd just come back from that music festival. You were so wasted I was scared that I would get drunk just from kissing you. But after you dealt with that bastard just for asking me for my number, I didn't care. I knew in that moment that I would have you forever."

Forever was a bit of a stretch, considering that that had only been their first date. Their first real date.

"When I saw the summons waiting for me, I was terrified that there would be a gun pointed to the back of my head at any moment. Considering how many times I'd done that to someone else, it only seemed fitting that the shoe would be on the other foot, but it never happened." Bai removed her glasses then, and for a moment Rafe thought that she was going to cry. Instead she simply set them aside she could lay her head against his shoulder. "Your parents had both warned me about pursuing something with you, your father with threats and your mother with a rather convincing show of concern. She told me that you would just throw me aside, that it would be suicidal to stay by your side. Obviously I didn't listen, but when I saw that letter waiting for me, I thought that maybe my time had come."

Aware of the game they had been playing, together she and Rafe had planned several different contingency plans, however once it became real, the fear began to set in. And that was when it had just been the two of them. "I knew that no matter how it ended, those last few days alone had made it all worth it. But still, I was terrified, all the way up until I saw your old man sitting there. There were no guards, no guns. There was nothing but him, a pruning set, and two cups of tea. He'd meant to poison me, just as I'd supposedly poisoned you." As if Rafe ever needed anyone's help.

That certainly explained the shattered tea set he'd discovered by the old man. "He should have just shot you."

Nodding slowly against the fabric of his dress shirt, there was no hiding that even after getting that confession out of her, it was still a painful topic. Even now that she had finally given birth to a healthy daughter. Lacing her arm through his and squeezing his hand, Bai brought her legs up to rest across the span of vacant seat behind her, "That's what I said to him when I got there. I told him I would die for you if I had to, but it would always be with a fight. He told me he wasn't going to kill me, not when I was carrying the future of his family. That was when he offered me the tea."

Indifferent and emotionally unattached to the subsequent string of unsuccessful births his partner had endured, hearing that his father wanted to put an end to the one pregnancy that meant anything to him made Rafe hate the other man that much more. Younger and so much more innocent to the world, that would have been his son! The man he was today knew that the child could have been everything to the boy he still had been at the time, could have altered everything as it was now. Maybe it had been for the best that the boy hadn't been brought into the world, but it wasn't for that miserable old bastard to decide!

Feeling the surge of raw, seething hate consuming the billionaire just from the way he'd began to shake, she held the man close to her own heart, shifting their positions from that of protector to the protected. His father was dead, yet somehow still so capable of reducing an otherwise wonderful man to this... She loathed the bastard for that. One to hold even the most nonsensical of grudges, for Bai the absolute worst offense was hurting her family.

Cheek poised so perfectly for his hand to cup, as his hand caressed the tender side of her face, Rafe thought better of it. A little lower and he easily could have choked the life out of her, but there was no doubt that she would enjoy that too much. No, prickling with the ghostly sting of rejection the man needed to lash out, to make his companion feel even a fraction of what he felt. Not a stranger to suffering herself, there was no earthly way it could compare to what he knew.

Thrusting her away would have been a good start. Only...

One of the rare few to delight in his combustible wrath, in truth there was always a small part that was scared that he'd push her too far one day. So far that day hadn't come, but it was just a matter of time.

Fallible, that same lost part longed to caution the woman. It wanted to keep her close until they were nothing more than dust, to shelter her from what he himself was responsible for throwing her into. Ideally that half could honor the promises he made to Bai, the ones he'd sincerely meant but had been unable to carry through with. Maybe if that part had ever won through, he could be half the father his daughter thought he was.

Crushed by harsh words and even sterner actions, Rafe wasn't able to reach out to that part of himself any more, not really, although he could still sometimes see it as if in a mirror.

"They're dead, and sooner or later my own father will join them." The woman spoke little of her father, and even less of her mother. In fact, the only thing Rafe really knew was her name had been Da. "You'll find Avery's treasure any day now, and then there will be no one left that can deny what I see every time I look at you." He loved what she did for his confidence (not that his ego needed the boost). "No one."

Nathan Drake could. Even if the evidence was staring him right in the face, _the legend_ would still somehow find a way, just to spite him.

Definitely reading his mind this time, Bai sneered, "Drake's weak. He quit the search after a matter of weeks, and now reports indicate that he's settled down. You have a family too, and that hasn't stopped you!" Stating the facts, as she thought about it the word caught in her mouth. _Family_. "...Rafe?" Hesitating, she suddenly seemed diminished somehow, "Do you hate me for having Daniella?" It was a question she felt on the tip of her tongue often, yet she'd never been able to put it into words before now, "I know she was never a part of your plan, but has having her in your life really been so awful?"

In the earliest months of the pregnancy, Rafe had been surprised by each day nature hadn't taken its course, and while he hadn't taken any measures to hasten what he figured to be inevitable, there was a part of him that had almost been rooting for the worst. Bai would be insufferable for a time, and he himself would likely have to take off days at a time to keep his support stable. Things would keep, although the sooner it happened the better off the hunt would be.

Except the girl hadn't self-terminated like so many of the others. Doctors told the mother-to-be that there would be great risk, that even if the baby was born the odds would be stacked against her surviving past a certain point. As she did every time, Bai made every possible attempt to get the father involved, even knowing that she had been wasting her energy. Even if it meant her own death, it was obvious that the woman would do everything in her power to have their little one. By some fluke, against all odds it paid off.

Daniella was a fighter, even when things seemed their bleakest.

Illness knocked on the door in dozens of different guises, and each time had been thwarted; mostly it had been her mother's quick acting and his pocket book, but the girl couldn't be discredited in the rocky road to recovery. An infant at the time, she had survived the frigid and crushing cold of Scottish storms when even grown men had balked. As she aged, the girl had shown promise, a drive not unlike her mother's to do everything and anything that would serve in his own interest.

No, he couldn't honestly say that he hated the accident now, although he still hadn't fully embraced it yet either. "Daniella's here to stay, so that doesn't matter anymore." Tone brokering no room for argument, the billionaire erroneously thought that this was going to be the end of that discussion, not the opening she had been angling for the entire time.

Holding tight to the only man she would ever fully love in complete privacy, for a heart-stopping second he was scared that this was her way of saying it was happening again, "Do you see now why we need to be better for Daniella? If she sees it's okay to just go around killing her family, what's to say that she won't come after us one day?"

Apparently Bai really had lost her mind, because that was never going to happen. "Bai, breathe. Daniella isn't going to come after us. We both know she would never dream of doing anything that would harm me, and killing you wouldn't earn her any favors."

Just the very thing she needed to hear to assuage some of the notions worrying at her nerves, the woman nodded, "Of course you're right. I guess I'm just concerned about how hard she's been working herself lately... The night before we left, she actually made herself practice her routine until she passed out on the floor of her room..." From the sounds of it, that was becoming more and more common. "What if she remembers this all wrong and thinks that I was the one that made her do it? What if she makes herself hate me enough to cross you just this once?"

Utterly ridiculous on a number of levels, was the fearless Bai truly that scared of karma that she paled before a possible future where their little girl actually loathed her enough to seek retribution? Daniella's grandparents were horrible people that earned their own fates, but they were a hardship the girl would never have to know. As her parents, the girl would never understand half of what they endured, so there was no need to even think for a moment that the idea would occur to the girl.

In fact it was so outlandish and specific a fear that the icy eyed man had to ponder if this wasn't the bespectacled woman making a roundabout point about his recent parenting choices.

Once Bai had drawn out a conversation so long that an old crone had died during the course. Stalling a tactic the black widow knew well, his money was on the woman manipulating the conversation to this point just so she could make him feel guilty about sending a stand-in to watch Daniella's recital in his stead. Really the woman shouldn't have been surprised that he couldn't be bothered to attend a meaningless dance when the majority of her job was doing exactly that. _Hypocrisy, thy name was Bai._

Manipulative as the woman could be, there was likely a deeper reason attached to the tail-end, such as annoyance of his tepid response to the girl's heartfelt performance. Mom the villain nine times out of ten, she was the one that gave the bitter dosage of reality while he was free to step in and play the encouraging hero. Truth one thing, delicacy was a subtly he hardly ever bothered with, even when it concerned the young child they shared.

Using the exact words "not your best work" on the ill-fated debut, the tiny tot had been inspired to work that much harder. All in the name of her daddy, Daniella had worked her little self to the brink of exhaustion on more than one occasion, but he hadn't seen a problem with the show of initiative.

Who knew, Daniella might have even earned hearing that he was proud of her for the effort. Then she had run herself so ragged that she'd collapsed half-way through the big number and had had to be taken to the hospital for observation. Playing her role even to the public eye, Bai had shouldered the blame; unbeknownst to the judgmental trophy wives in the group, it had not been silently. Nor had the anger subsided, it seemed.

"I don't know what more you want from me." All but shrugging the clinging silhouette off, Rafe's mind was abuzz with more harmful fates that involved more than a simple shove. "I already told her that not everyone can be good at everything they do. I gave her my permission to quit. Need I remind you who wanted her in that class in the first place? There's no merit in ballet."

For as much as Bai loved him, in moments like these she could just skin him alive, "I'm sorry there are only so many options for girls at her age! I suppose this means I need to add alternative toddler classes to the docket! Get our top men on the job, stat!" Taking a deep breath, anger only got so much accomplished when they were both right. "I know you want to make an upstanding figure that will do you proud, but this would have been good for her in other ways. It would have taught her balance and form, perfection if you'd have let her stick with it, follow-through, on that note! Social skills, I mean I could go on." Silence could be an effect tool too, but the blood was pumping too hard for that now. "I really do love that you're so adamant about how she gets shaped in something worthwhile and isn't just another ditz with a plastic card, much like all these others, but she needs some normalcy too! Being carted all around the world, never taking root, it can't be healthy." For all they knew, it could have led to her settling, or worse, or taking up with some disreputable trash in the distant future!

"You should have thought of that before." True, those were some valid points she had made, but logic had little place when things turned to red.

Eyes narrowing to nothing more than twin slits and nostrils flaring, everything about the woman screamed danger, "Before _what_ , exactly?"

Just as dangerous a creature when given even half a chance, Rafe knew the exact words to use to grind the ax in for the kill. Staring her down now, her body suddenly taut and moving subconsciously into a more aggressive stance, the wrong word could have sent her over the edge and on the assault. It would have been as easy as a puppet master pulling the strings, and he had all the power to quell the situation or to turn it into a bona fide quarrel.

Reveling in these moments more than any other spent in her company (largely due to how the encounters ended), all he had to do was use the same lust that doubled as a weapon.

"Before you gave me the green light to fuck you."


	45. If She Only Knew

**\- Chapter Forty-One -**

 **If She Only Knew**

Contemplatively tapping the plastic case over what was probably the closest thing the Drake family would get to an heirloom, the young blonde's mind wandered back to her uncle and his company. On one hand she was getting really close to beating her mom's legendary high score, but on the other it was rare that her uncle traveled with anyone that wasn't Sully. Crash... or a boring ass conversation that wasn't going anywhere...? Fun with a sneaker-wearing fox or patiently waiting for some sort of explanation that probably wouldn't pan out...?

 _Was there really a choice?_

Leaving the conversation because there was an unbearable lack of momentum, the dull static of vague and forced pleasantries was almost maddening! Zero answers were forthcoming, and there weren't even any questions being put out! Worst conversationalists _ever_! Glad to bail when she had, Cassie had no second thoughts about her decision until a few minutes later, when the guest bath closed but failed to open again. Maybe it was just the biz, but if there wasn't an exit made soon, her mother would check up on whoever was in the toilet.

"You didn't pick anything up, right girl?" Turning away from the collection of clear crystalline CD cases on the cluttered corner of the cubical, Cassie scratched the chrysanthemum yellow retriever behind the ear.

Curled up on the messy cascade of pink sheets, the faithful lab slobbered and merrily wagged her tail against the bedding. Vicky had undoubtedly sniffed the strangers out and had given them passing grades, but even still the girl couldn't help but wonder who the pair were and what they were doing there.

Rafael had introduced himself back on the beach, even though he sounded hassled and just barely hanging on to his sanity. Like her parents weren't all that bad, but she could certainly relate to the feeling. As for the other guest, the one that her parents had been making such a huge fuss about ever since they learned that she would be coming, she seemed too out-of-sorts to really see anything beyond her own two feet. And since Sam had had to catch her almost right away, even that much was debatable. Supposedly she was someone important, but frankly Cassie wasn't seeing it.

Mostly likely the dark-haired stranger was someone important to her uncle.

Facts speaking for themselves, unless one counted Chloe, Sam never ever _ever_ had any female friends - in fact, he didn't seem to have any other friends besides Sully. While that probably wasn't an accident, even on the few occasions they'd paid her uncle a visit, there was never so much as a hint that he had even a single aquaintance. No photos, no anything. Maybe it was all planned out in advance so she was kept in the dark, but from all accounts her uncle may as well have been a ghost.

But all the sudden he was traveling with (and had his arms all over) some woman? True, Cassie was still too young to really grasp the nuances of dating or whatever, but she'd always heard that bringing a date to family gatherings was a monumental step in any relationship. And with it being her birthday next week, the timing couldn't have been a coincidence. Even if by some fluke they could make her believe that it was, that didn't explain why Sully wasn't there too.

House built just for three, that all but ensured any and all guests would need to find alternate lodging, however that was usually no problem; too old to just camp out on the low seats in the family room or crash for longer than a day on the couch in the sitting room, Sam and Sully would rent rooms at the cheapest motel in town. They might not have shared rooms, however they did just about everything else together, so it had to mean something that Sully wasn't here but some stranger was.

It could have just been that Sully was working and wouldn't arrive until a closer to the date of the party, but this was definitely a first. Well, if this was what it seemed, good for Sam for getting out there!

Although if that train of thought was correct and Sam was in fact planning on formally introducing this strange woman as his girlfriend, there was another wrench to consider: Rafael. Just how did he fit into things, and if the couple was indeed traveling with a third wheel, why wouldn't it be Sully? Maybe as de facto father to the brothers Drake, it was considered creepy to hang all over Sam and his new beau? Personally she wouldn't like it very much if her parents butted in on her love-life. Still though, even if that explained the lack of Sully, that didn't answer what Rafael's role in everything was...

Hmm... Troubled by the handsome young man and how he fit into the picture she had built in her mind of Sam's relationship with the woman, the young blonde frowned at Vicky and crept back to the door. Ducking around the wood to minimize her chances of being seen, she expertly peered down the corridor and waited. For what, she hadn't the foggiest.

Not quite able to resist the mystery, she was probably going to regret picking this over her game, but if her theory was right, she had just as much right as her parents to judge Sam's taste in woman. After all, she was part of the family too.

 **[In The Drake Family Bathroom]**

Six foot three and bringing up the rear, Sam was in the perfect vantage point to peek back over his shoulder and catch a fleeting glimpse of a little blonde head. Tapping into a whole skill set she didn't know she had (thank you mom and dad), Cass donned the mantle of spy as she attempted to seamlessly blend into her background. Peering around the corner of the wall, the pink of her wallpaper in contrast to the teal of the hallway, the girl scoped out the scene as it unfolded.

Clearly inheriting her parents' penchant for uncovering the truth, it really didn't come as much of a surprise that Cassie would be snooping around. Harmless enough, the ex-con decided to play along and pretend that he hadn't noticed her. At least for the time being - much as he loved his niece, the thief really didn't need the job to become any harder than it already had.

"It's Daniella, right?" Leaning back just enough so that they could look one another in the eye, Elena reached out with a soft, sincere smile. Either there had been some pretty quick exchanges he hadn't been privy to, or the blonde was a true credit to her trade.

Willing to bet actual money that it was the later, he hung back in the doorway as the heiress sniffled and managed a weak nod. Bleary-eyed, trapped in a hazy distance that she hadn't quite yet escaped, and acting as if she hadn't noticed that more than one person had come forth, Dells was capable of little more than blinking or nodding. Chest heaving from dry sobs that hadn't completely settled, at least that was the range she was displaying.

Keeping the momentum going, the woman prompted a civil conversation, "That's a pretty name. How did you come by it?" Points to the journalist for attempting to form a bond with the girl, but was she really asking for insight on how the twisted minds of her parents worked? Granted she might not have known very much on Bai, but Rafe? That asshole had been sixty percent of what had almost ruined one of the only working marriages to ever exist! "Was it a family name?"

Quite possibly as ignorant of the truth as Cassie was, as Daniella thought about it her face scrunched in an effort to recall what could have only been a family tree of monsters and murderers. "I don't..." Shaking her head at a loss, the girl had that look in her face like she was obligated to answer. It reminded Sam of the beaten way she's acted around Bai, "Um, maybe?" A good sign that she could string two words together in a semblance of a sentence, the brunette had to concede that maybe Elena knew what she was doing after all. "Mama..." Predictably upset by the mere mention of her mother, the girl struggled on, but ultimately it had been too much for her.

The elder Drake was honestly impressed with Daniella for what she had managed. It wasn't a complete victory by any means, but he was still proud of the young woman for embracing the help of a stranger - even if she hadn't gotten around to elaborating on her answer.

When their lives had first fallen apart at the seams and it had been just the two of them, Sam had been the only person that Nathan could rely on (just like he was to Daniella now). Both were shaken by _the incident_ , however as the older brother, Samuel didn't have the luxury of shutting down. No, he had to speak for a sibling that withdrew from the world, had to stay strong even when he felt utterly powerless. Eventually Nathan had found Sully - and vise versa - but the journey had been anything but quick and painless.

So to see Daniella - who had just come from the latest in a series of royal fuck-yous from the universe - actually accept Elena like that was more than he could have hoped for. Dells might still have a long road ahead of her, but if she could allow a moment like this to transpire, maybe there was hope after all. Much as the thief didn't care to plan that far in advance, it was obvious that he couldn't always be there for her.

 _You did good, kid_. He would have admitted as much too, if pride weren't getting in the way.

Picking up on where the girl was going but thoroughly misreading the warning signs, the blonde made the mistake of mentioning the unmentionable. "That's right, so much has happened you probably haven't been able to call your mom. She must be worried sick about you!"

 _Thank you, Elena_.

About to offer the use of a phone most like, the woman was so caught in the prospect off reuniting a mother and daughter that she completely missed the plan backfiring. Dells had been leaning on the more mature female for support of all natures, but when the damage had been done, the girl recoiled as if she had been struck and made herself sit a little straighter. To be fair it was a really sudden shift, and outwardly subtle beneath the crushing layer of sorrow that drowned the girl like a rich and deathly musk.

Hovering silently on the sidelines long enough, Sam had reached his limit.

Still perturbed as he crowded into the last remaining space in the tiny room, the brunette made to deal with the heiress himself, _before_ there was yet another setback. Only coming closer had triggered the flight-or-fight response in the young thing, causing her to squint fearfully over the woman's shoulder; alerted by the looming figure blocking the exit, Sleeping Beauty visibly flinched before realizing who it was. Relaxing for a whole second that very well might have been imagined, when the wounded child tore her gaze away he couldn't help but to follow her line of sight.

Obviously anything else was better than looking at him.

Going straight to that whole 'two can play at that game' mindset, the thief considered just leaving the two women to it and taking the bags. Easy enough to forget, someone would need to grab them before the trio moved on the motel in town, and more importantly, someone had to set the tone for their relationship moving forward. Apparently Daniella was more than capable of dancing with everyone who entered the room, content even to forget the one that had brought her, but did she have it in her to stay firm? Because he could certainly keep up the cold shoulder.

"I got this." Intentionally neglecting to use the name of the heiress, the historian gestured to his sister-in-law to scoot so they could trade places.

Naturally Elena didn't have any qualms with leaving the girl to the one person that knew her best - well, maybe there was a bit of hesitation, but that was what kept the little firecracker interesting. Mutely dipping her head, the blonde gracefully bowed out and slipped passed her in-law, allowing Sam to take her place at Daniella's side. For a brief moment they both saw the girl's jaw tighten, her mouth falling into a grim line when she was left to stay up on her own. Chalking it up to nothing more than the circumstances, the former journalist lingered in place, curious to know if she should stay or if they would want to hash things out in private.

Without any warning whatsoever, he scooped Dells up off her perch on the toilet seat and tossed her none too gently across his shoulders. Too sudden to predict, the blonde barely had time to step back out of the loo and into the hallway; the newly shorted heiress had even less time to realize what was happening. _Eh, she could just put it on the tab if it was going to bother her that much._

Gritting his teeth to bite back the complaint building in his spine, Sam readjusted his grip on the human plank. Weight one thing he hadn't really taken into consideration, the other was the fact that she was much taller than the other women in his life and was in fact only a hair shorter than he was. Thinking back, it was probably safe to say that he could rest his chin on the top of her head without problem. All that length could have been a bad look for her, but strangely it was one of the few things she had going in her favor.

Just not this time.

Low enough that the naturally-cut door frame was brushable, he'd only had enough time to warn the girl to brace herself for impact, "Door."

Oops.

Vindictive smirk lighting his features as well as his mood, the hearty thud her head made against the wood was enough to leave a mark, however it didn't sound like enough to cause any concern for her overall well being.

"Mother-" Thanks to the influences of Victor and her beloved uncle Sam, Cassie had heard it all, but her parents probably wouldn't take too kindly to that kind of language regardless. Burying her face into his back even as he adjusted her position to cover up anything his niece might have overheard, the man could feel her swearing through the fabric of his shirt. Any more and it would have been teeth.

Compassionate as his little brother, Elena made a face as she moved to check on the girl, but that would only delay things, so Sam just kept walking with the legs of his prize jutting out dangerously like an over-sized pair of scissors. Good thing Daniella was too stunned to kick out. Although if the good doctor were to step in the path...

Progress unbarred largely due to surprise, despite a momentary delay fumbling with the knob at the front door, it was relatively smooth sailing. Dells was in no position to fight, between being emotionally drained and dazed, and no one thought to stop the duo as they departed. The runt would likely be making some jab back inside once they were gone, but that was a problem for another time.

Sky deepening to a dappled pepper gray spotted with the lightest of blues, for now all that mattered was setting Dells straight without any pressure. The bathroom would have been fine for talking, but on some level he would be thinking about everyone waiting on the other side. On the cusp of anger, the further they got away from that environment and the prying (but mostly well-meaning) eyes, the better.

 _This was gonna suck._


	46. Almost An Assassination Attempt

**\- Chapter Forty-Two -**

 **Almost An Assassination Attempt**

Dead wind too feeble to do more than sputter through his thinning hair, it would have seemed redundant to still be wearing their coats if the beach weren't languishing in limbo and emitting a catching chill. A vivacious splash of neon yellow in an otherwise watercolor sky, the sun was probably doing all it could to warm the white sands, however not nearly fast enough. Carrying his burden out the house and down the front steps, the ex-con had to ponder where it was they could go to be alone. Properly alone.

Weather permitting, there was the cozy little canopy by the fire pit, which had the added bonus of having curtains that could be drawn as desired. But would it be warm enough on its own? Ordinarily the thick, starchy flap was tied back for the light of the sun and moon alike, so the elder Drake couldn't recall a time when the set-up had been made more intimate. Cassie had sometimes sat inside when she'd pretend it was a litter and she an ancient queen, but he'd never thought to test how good the coverage really was.

Far more practical in just about every way, the office was just a little ways on. Things weren't like to turn violent or get outrageously out-of-hand, however the brunette knew that he would never be forgiven if anything were to happen to their work. Miss Mild Manners wouldn't intentionally screw anything up for someone else without a reason, he was sure of that much, however bad luck followed that girl wherever she went like an unlucky penny, so it would be better to not test fate. Besides, like the aforementioned canopy, it also felt a touch too close to the residence.

A mere stone's throw away and just bobbing mulishly against the deep turquoise tide was the boat (to which he didn't actually have keys, but that wouldn't be much of a problem). Sheltered and as far from the wonder crowd as they could possibly get with such a limited map, even in his agitated state the historian saw that that was only inviting an accident. Done with so-called medical experts, Sam wanted to have as clear a head as he could, and he knew that if the pair got too close under the right conditions, things might get a little... _friendly_.

Money taking a backseat for the moment - just a moment - it was plain to see that the girl was in no fit state to be putting herself to the market. Baby was only just stumbling through the tail-end of a daze, and with the huffy way he himself was feeling, there was virtually no chance whatsoever that he could mind both his temper and keep things at a comfortable tempo for the girl. Daniella needed kinder treatment than what he was currently equipped to deal with, she deserved that much. Besides, there was also his family to consider as well.

 _Urgh, why did he have to be the one tested like this?! God must have really hated him. Moody-ass teenagers, pipsqueaks at play, moms with agendas, brothers, inevitable repercussions, and a heaping helping of nitwits and rivals. Could just one thing go his way?! Just once!_

Technically speaking there were a number of places around the island they could have their little therapy session, yet because he was supporting the girl like he was, the thief wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to lug her around. Add that to the list - if it wasn't the curse of age, her muscle mass, and being too stubborn for his own damn good, it was bound to be something else.

On the bright side, at least they didn't have to cross any bridges or collapsible cliff sides.

 _Fuck. My. Life._ Back really starting to feel it, he groaned to himself internally as the cyst on his shoulder squirmed, _HARD_.

Silent as the countless crucifixes scattered throughout the entirety of the Saint Francis' Boy's Home, he could feel Daniella start to stir more than before. An obedient little thing that could take orders well enough, there was no reason that the young woman couldn't just follow him to one of the many alternate locals. In theory.

In practice, the personification of his un-confessed sins was a lost wreck. But that was alright, because things in the dollhouse were just as big of a mess. _The more the merrier, why the hell not?_ Control the biggest lie of them all, as the cold truth emerged through the smoldering rubble it was clear that now wasn't the time for her to get the wrong idea. As her sole protector, the thief was still in charge of the itinerary: they would go where he told them to go, when he told her.

As far as Dells needed to be concerned, she was just there tagging along because mommy was going to pay him handsomely for keeping her alive. That was it.

Now Sam just had to say all of that to her face. Her red, puffy, sopping wet face.

 **[Inside The House]**

Elena was sorely tempted to stop her brother-in-law from absconding with the heiress when he'd just suddenly swooped in like he had. If that had been her daughter the blonde definitely would have lost her cool and intervened, but as it wasn't Cassie, it was much easier to see the bigger picture. She had been young once, had known what it felt like to want to lock herself in a dark room for hours (or even weeks) on end without leaving. Bad break-ups, multiple rejections letters from the one school she wanted to attend more than anything else, a death in the family, she had been there before.

Granted the circumstances weren't entirely in the same hemisphere, however if the poor girl was able to feel anything at all at the moment, it was that same exact feeling. Warm winter blankets and solitude were the second most precious thing in the world when a young heart was crushed. And Sam? Sam might be a little rough around the edges and borderline rude at times, but he just might have been the answer: a friend in a time of need.

 _Heaven help her._

Keeping her eyes on the prize, Elena used her quick recovery speed to her advantage and moved to the fridge. "Whose hungry?"

Faster than his wife at adapting to the situation, Nate was still sitting by the door, perplexed and looking as if he was beyond trying to figure out what had led from point A to point B. About ready to get up out of his seat, if she had to guess, the woman would have thought the gears were working out if he should be worried or not. When she mentioned food, Nathan whipped his head around to the summons, all previous thoughts wiped from his head.

Cassie was right there as well, almost as if she had been lurking in the hallway the whole time. Name uncomfortably close for her liking, Rafael had absolutely no apparent interest whatsoever in what his traveling companions got up to on their own, throwing his head back against the seat as if to prove that point. For a second the woman thought that he might have been intending to take a nap, until the prospect of a meal caused him to jerk to attention.

 **[The Body And The Guard]**

Crystalline gaze swimming from getting wracked on not one but two doorways in quick succession, it took Daniella a moment to realize that they were no longer indoors. No longer surrounded by ogling eyes and mouths made for gossip, curious to see the next act in the freak show. _Are we really alone?_ Who was she kidding, she would always have a piece of her parents watching over her. In some ways that notion was truly thrilling, but in others it was rather dreadful in her lowest moment of shame. _Do the dead really watch us, all the time? I hope not, or Daddy would have seen quite a lot..._

 _(Please don't make me think about being honest about that,_ she implored the voice in her head _.)_

World a different place when everything was turned all around and seen through the filter of partially dried tears, her first real clue was not the scenery but the in place of hard flooring (who was going to pay enough attention to commit that level of detail to memory?!), blue-gray skies instead of fine yet aged wooden craftsmanship. Overall a pretty landscape painting for the gallery.

Not a pretty picture, unshaven legs with hair getting a tad too long to call stubble prickled at the almost nonexistent breeze, but thankfully the jacket was keeping the goosebumps away. _Stupid stitches._ Honestly static, the airflow not interrupted by the thief's proximity wasn't an unwelcome change, merely different. Although if they stayed outside much longer, she might be singing another tune sooner than later.

Quietly observing her surroundings once more - after recent events, she might never visit a new place without seeking out every possible exit - the young woman noted the front of porch of the house. It was a cute little set-up, perfect for getting close and personal. Just beyond that was a personal fire pit and dais marked by a canoe or two, a small boat anchored opposite. Funnily enough she had failed to see the watercraft when docking, but reviewing all the facts, there really hadn't been time to look around.

Honestly getting sick and tired of being scarcely more than a prop, the heiress began to fuss around when they paused for seemingly no reason at all, "I can walk."

"Fine." _Bet if I were anyone else, she'd be kissing my ass and showering me with thanks._ Kinder now that he had tasted a small form of retribution but still a long ways off from forgiveness, the brunette let her down almost gently in comparison, "My back was getting sore anyways."

Aware of the target he had intentionally presented, he leered in the girl's direction as she balanced herself, daring her to take the bait. Nadine would have jumped on it before anything else, Chloe would have chimed in just for the sake of being a smart-ass, and even Elena would have punished him for the remark. Bai would have been the worst offender of all he knew, her words all acid and knives with pure killing intent. As her daughter, Daniella should have had something for him.

Voice splintered as one would expect from someone in a recovery program, she didn't miss the fact that he was considerably more gentlemanly now than he had been at any point since they had arrived. Though his gaze wasn't as bright as she suspected it could be, his eyes weren't so far from seeing her as they were before. "I'm sorry."

Maybe it was just a sequestered reader romanticizing again, yet she couldn't deny that he could have just dropped her gracelessly on her ass. It happened frequently in the movies, and she had no delusions that this whole situation wasn't a nightmare for the man. Assumptions easy enough to make, she had no clue what he did before she fell onto his plate, but it had to have been better than all of this.

Sorry? Sorry?! That was all she had to say for herself?!

Damned to the farthest possible place on the great white north, it wasn't the razor sharp barb he would have delivered if their roles had been reversed, but it seemed to be genuine enough. _It was always genuine with her_. And just about the only thing he'd heard out of her. _Sorry, sorry, sorry!_ Rafe had never been sorry a day in his whole entire life, and Bai had only managed it the once (recently at that!), but somehow their kid had picked up all the slack in that department and had gone and made the word her catchphrase.

 _Whoever had raised the girl had done one hell of a job_! Emitting a noise not unlike the bastard of a hiss and a strained grunt under his breath, if he had to write all of this down Sam was steamed enough to use several heavily punctuated exclamations.

 _Anything._ Anything would have been better than that! Any mature adult that had their shit together would have been ecstatic by the class displayed, but come the fuck on! That was the painfully hand-crafted puppet Bai had manufactured, not the young woman.

If Sam had been a more rational man and not so prone to taking his lighter to the tall grass when the field was already on fire, he might have seen that the fraction of himself that wasn't irritated by the clueless traitor had used this as a test of sorts. Calmer than the man he had once been, he didn't want to be mad at the young woman - in fact he was kind of hoping that this was a chance for her to redeem herself. In retrospect it wasn't a very good test, because she hadn't exactly shown herself to be the snappy sort so far and was only set up to fail.

Blanking out rather callously on a subconscious level that she was in a vulnerable place, he lost his composure, "Oh, just stuff your sorries!" Blood flaring in his veins at a hot enough degree to boil an egg, the historian took the girl in hand and shook her, "You're an Adler for Chrissake, so act like it! Rafe's dead and Bai isn't here, so for the love of God, stop acting like a damn mannequin and be your own person!"

Probably not the best advice when her dad was his own special breed of awful, her mother was... her mother, and the surname carried an unwritten history of horror. Logic had jumped ship the minute Rafael introduced himself, so it wasn't like there was any kind of a plan. Mood making him irrational and about as far from reasonable as a person could get, the argument could be made that he was only just realizing that her lack of spontaneity and fire was starting to grate at the nerves. Jesus, he wanted to scream at her to stop being so god-damn reasonable and be a dumb kid for once!

...Wait. He just had. Well shit!

Told in the past that it wasn't an attractive trait to repeatedly apologize, nothing could have prepared her for the outburst.

Disbelief such that she was unable to even form words, the truth was that he was right - she wasn't much more than a pretty porcelain doll for the shelf. Mama's hold was no secret, and in fact was something she had kept coming back to, although she really didn't want to. For all her fantasies about manning up and being that pirate of lore given new life, she was just a plaything for others. For Daddy she was the heir apparent, for Mama a means to an end; Shen had probably only seen her as a challenge to overcome, Keats a laugh and a paycheck that evolved gradually into pity. No one had taken her seriously, because there wasn't anything there to take seriously.

No pride there to offend in theory, for all the etiquette instilled in her DNA Daniella was the mirror to everyone else's deepest desires. Angel and Ashley revealed in it when they'd held her captive, Jian had tried to exploit that identity, and even her schoolgirl enemies had made use off of her.

 _Who am I? Really?_

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to." Her father cautioned, half in memory and half as a flutter of oily ash-infused cola that tickled her earlobe. It was only the wind, yet for just a moment she remembered something else, something that had no place here where her father lived.

 _What am I?_

 _Why should I care anymore?_

Answers nowhere to be seen, not even in the fringes of insanity where ghosts would dwell, as Sam shook her the self-aware automaton switched off and gave in to instinct.

Imagining a weathered trunk in the attic - not her own, but just some random, dusty, borderline creepy old attic - Daniella turned an equally ancient brass key in the lock. Ornately designed with a royal motif, there was a moment that she was afraid it had been the wrong key because of how difficult the act of turning the mechanism was, however with a little more effort there was the satisfying noise of a click. It was done.

Surprisingly easy to surrender the reigns once they were out of her hand, the blank stare on her face faltered and became the angry mask of a person she did not recognize.

Bodies a decent ways away from one another during the affair, he was so consumed by the act of forcing sense on her that he failed to see her hands slip into the space between them. Reaching up without pause, in a single fluid motion the young woman batted away the unnecessary grip. Not satisfied with stopping there, she (mis)directed her anger and pain at the thief and shoved him back without warning. No one should have to suffer an indignity like that, let alone someone of her pedigree!

Half tempted to throttle the child then and there, the part of his brain that wasn't smothered in the red was saying to usher her along, just a little further up the nonexistent path until they were completely out of sight. _Choke her, or make her follow?_ Frightening how similar those two options were, more so how easily the idea came into his head, everything changed when she shoved him. To be fair it could have been a fluke incident that would never be repeated, but what if it wasn't?

Tipping backwards to tease gravity, his first thought as his feet slid along the sand was that she had applied an astounding amount of force for someone in such a fragile state. Apparently her muscles weren't just for show after all.

Cards, dice, whatever was handy, if there was a way to make a benefit off of it, chances were that he had bet on it. Sam could have lied and said that it was all to make some extra scratch for his little brother and him, but the truth was that he was just drawn to gambling. The stakes, the danger, the unknown, it was an adrenaline junkie's cushion when they couldn't make it into the real shit. Hell, it was so much a part of his life that he had made it a forever thing.

Poker was an especially handy habit, even when he lost. As a certain gentleman once said, 'You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em', and it was obvious that Dells hadn't yet learned that lesson.

Regret flashing not across her face but behind her pale hazel windows, considering he had merely stumbled and she revealed her hand by reaching out for his arm, that was to be expected from a novice. Ever the good-guy - err, good-girl - as she clasped his wrist with all her might to prevent a tumble, her cheeks lit up like a cherry pie on the Fourth of July. The girl might have been quick to let go and hastily glance away to take in the surrounding area, but the damage had already been done.

He certainly would have felt like an idiot if an act of aggression had been followed up with one of concern.

 _I should have just slapped him. At least that way I wouldn't have to look like an idiot for taking it back_.

* * *

 **AN:**

Hello reader(s)! Hope it wasn't too confusing going back and forth between Sam and Dells - I've done a fabulous job botching it before lol. Also, just wanted to say that reviews are always appreciated :) They help me grow as an author, which in turn means a better reading experience for you.

Take care!


	47. The Lives Of Others

**\- Chapter Forty-Two And A half -**

 **The Lives Of Others**

 **Logan + Chelsea - Say The "F" Word One More Time**

Airline hospitality was the absolute worst. The TSA guys pulled him aside for no other reason than that they were bored, one of his bags got lost (the one with the souvenirs for Chelsea and the baby), and naturally there were the usual delays. As if that hadn't been miserable enough on its own, about twenty minutes into the flight one of the stewards had recognized him and had begun to flirt shamelessly. While he had originally admired the balls it must've took to approach a stranger, the attendant gave one last try when the surfer said he was spoken for. Jilted and using some BS about being able to refuse service to anyone, for the rest of the flight the blonde couldn't so much as get a bag of peanuts.

But as he raced up to the front door of his home and threw the door open to the smell of vanilla and cinnamon, that ordeal began to matter less and less. Chelsea was just inside, her and their precious little bump, and from the smells of things she was eating her favorite kind of sweet glazed cinnamon bun. Admittedly he hadn't been the biggest fan at first, but if he wiped away enough of the frosting he could totally see what she was talking about.

Hm, buns for his honey and their bunny. Or would be better to say buns for his bunny and their honey, considering that whole thing about how reproductive rabbits were? Regardless, there was still time to work out a fitting nickname for the third member of the Savage clan. And actually a first name as well...

They hadn't quite gotten married to any one name for the baby just yet, although there were some really great options being shopped. Personally he liked Malakai for a boy and June or Piper for a girl, but whatever they went with, he was just stoked that they would be a family.

Family.

Stuck on how selfish he had been to leave his own brood when they were at their most vulnerable, his hand dropped off the knob as he closed the door behind him. The sun kept the worst of the cold away where they lived, and Chelsea herself was like a mini mobile version, but that hadn't kept the father-to-be from fretting over his wife. Speaking of his better half, she poked her head around the wall separating the kitchen from the front and beamed when she saw who was standing there.

"Babe!" Scarfing the last bite of her desert, the ebony goddess carelessly toss the plastic plate over her shoulder and puttered along to greet her spouse. Bigger than he remembered her being before, the baby joined the embrace as well.

How on earth was he ever going to tell her what had happened while he was gone? Intrigue, danger, it was a gnarly ride and he could hardly believe it himself, and that was the sane parts of the adventure. Eeh, whatever, he'd figure something out later. For now all that mattered was being back home, safe and loved with people that actually cared about him. "Guess it's a good thing for all those delays, or I might have caught ya in the act."

Laughing together, she wiped away some of the crumbs that had transfered over to his face with her thumb, "Oh yes," sharing more than just a bit of spit, the woman sucked the remains away, "it's been nothing but orgies in these parts."

"Oh good Lord!" Shaking her head as she came out of the kitchen, Crystal said a hail Mary before kissing her son on the cheek. "You kids have some of the most messed up humor I've ever heard! Just like..." Catching herself mid-sentence, the woman trailed off when she noticed her son look at the floor. "I wanted to be here for you when I heard about what you were doing. Did... did you find him?"

Some people considered the word family to be dirty, but not Logan. Usually the word conjured up images of his mother at various different stages of her life, the man he'd called father, and his two grandfathers. As he'd gotten older and obtained friends that picture grew in size, doubling when he met Chels and married into her life. Happy as they all had made him, there was a hole in his heart not knowing who his father had been, but now that he'd met the man, he had to wonder if it was better not knowing...

Feeling the love of the two women, he pulled them both into a hug. "My family is right here."

 **Alberto Paredes - The Note**

 _'If you expect me to say dear brother, you've officially watched Nicholas Sparks too many times._

 _Sorry about the crunch I put the clinic into, but trust me, those drugs actually saved a life._

 _See you when I see you, Rafael'_

Clutching the letter in his fist, Alberto paced restlessly around the apartment, agonizing about the contents. Should he alert the authorities? With no signs of foul play and as a minority, the vet saw the odds as being slim-to-none that they would do their job like they were supposed to. The family had a right to know what was happening as well, but what was happening? Was his little brother in danger? Was someone else?

Rafael had never been easy to read, not even as a child, but this...

If this was drugs, and it was his own undoing, the family would never forgive him! Well, most of them wouldn't, and with as old and traditional as aubela was, he would almost certainly be written out of the will. It would only be a humble amount anyways, but anything was helpful when it came to student debts.

 _Dammit little brother, why won't you ever let anyone help you?!_

 **Bai + Sully - The Devil Really Does Wear Prada**

"So let me get this straight, your plan is to break into your old man's compound - which by your own admission makes Queen Elizabeth's security look like a bunch of amateurs - just to have a word with him?!" Sully could have sworn he'd had this exact same conversation with Nate, and it hadn't sounded any less crazy then. "Am I the only one that remembers you aren't exactly the most welcome of people?" Seriously, even getting the woman on dry land was going to be one helluva maneuver, let alone anything else she might have been cooking up behind those bangs of hers.

Rolling her eyes impatiently behind red frames, she was as insufferable as her ex had been, "All I'm asking you to do is get me as close as you can. I can manage the rest."

That's what she kept saying, but he wasn't so sure she was really thinking this thing through. It was true that he had almost no knowledge of the layout of the map, and even less of a clue about her full capabilities, but Victor did know that Bai had a daughter back home that still needed her. "Fine, say for argument's sake you're right, and you do get in. What's your extraction plan?"

Bai shrugged, "I won't need one if I succeed."

He didn't need to ask her what would happen if she failed.

"You at least have someone on the inside that you can trust?" Victor wasn't one to pry deeper into someone's personal life than he had to, however there was clearly some sort of history between the woman and the man they were spying on, so maybe there was something useful buried in the past. "That Yahui fellow seems like he still has a thing for ya."

"I..." Displaying the first signs of hesitance that he had ever seen out of her, the businesswoman bit her lip and frowned, "I'd rather not have to depend on him for this one. Not if I don't have to."

Could it be? Someone that Bai actually held in high esteem that wasn't Rafe?

Tabletop littered with maps, receivers, and a couple of radios for recon, the seaplane was feeling less like freedom and more like a prison cell. Couped up together for too long without any type of reprieve, it was a small miracle that it hadn't become a grave site as well. Fingers thrumming against the edge of the table, he surveyed the woman opposite him, her own gaze transfixed on the schematics. _She was really adamant about this_.

"Tell ya what, Darling," as a father of sorts, he couldn't help but to think of the one thing that might dissuade the woman from what he considered to be suicide, "I have something back home I have to see to. Shouldn't take longer than a few days. Why don't you come with me, so we can regroup and see if we can't come up with a better plan."

For a minute he honestly thought she was going to put the kibosh on his suggestion, but eventually she nodded. "A break could work. But then it's straight back, you understand?"

It was Sully's turn to roll his eyes, "I got the message loud and clear."

 **Wyatt Ross - Holsters And Brushes**

Hanging up the last of his gear as he entered the studio he shared with some ceramicist, the young man exchanged his tactical vest for an apron. His fellow artist would refuse to enter the building without at least a half-dozen scowls towards the weaponry, but other than that the pair got on well enough. In addition to crafting sculptures and playing at the potters wheel in the back for extra cash, the redhead was also teaching him to up his own painting game. Wyatt could craft well enough, but most of the beauty in his work was lost to the streaked atrocities he finished.

Only today it would just be the soldier, as the other was off at work. No matter, he wasn't in much of a mood for learning - still upset by the Adler girl slipping through his fingers like that, he just wanted to pummel something. A punching bag might have sufficed, but he didn't want to get worked up like that. Anyways, with clay there were a ton of things he could do with a softened subject.

Make a mask, or an umbrella stand if he decided to make his art something practical. Normally it was just a hobby for him, something to vent his anger into and then deal with accordingly. By that standard, the fate of his artwork was to more or less end up smashed on the floor or against a wall, but there were one or two things that had survived the purge to be place in his apartment.

Perhaps even one day he could make something for his mother.

Nadine was a rather blunt person, however he had the feeling that she would treasure just about anything he gave her, especially if he mentioned he'd made it himself. Maybe that was normal for a parent, but as they were still forming that sort of bond, it wasn't that conveyor belt of projects and flat thanks. With the woman, it would have been sincere.

Someday.

 **Pan Yahui** **\- Sugar Pop**

Not a wholly virtuous man, he still believed that there was a higher power above even Zhihao. Zhihao was only a man - a man that he and several others had all elected to follow - but he was a man nonetheless. Men were weak, prone to their fates and fallible. And he would know, not because he had some secret knowledge of his leader that might tip the scales if he was so inclined, but because he had given in to temptation.

Mama had long-since been returned to the ancestors by way of malnutrition and a weak heart. It was not so long ago that he lost his Baba to heart disease, so his diet had changed to promote better health, but honestly it was not a seamless transition. It should have been, but the red meats and sweets were against him! Everywhere he went, there seemed to be a promotion for a new flavor of lollipop or an offering of delicacies. Bloody, raw, fatty delicacies.

Had he children of his own, he would have seen to it that they would have been better than him, but alas that ship had sailed long ago to America.

On his knees at the shrine, Yahui prayed a simple prayer, "Let me be a stronger man. Save me from myself."

 **Chloe Frazer - I Love You, And You Love Meenu Too**

Desktop absolutely strewn with photographs and little else, Chloe's workspace somehow or other always managed to surprise people when they saw it.

Clearly they were mistaking her space for Nate's, because when they'd dated it was cluttered by various items ranging from bottles of aspirin to old day planners and a million post-it notes - quite possibly there were actually one million slips littered about. Everything was chaos. Pens littered every few inches, there was a little container of floss at one end and a box of tissue at the other. Total bedlam.

When she asked how he could possibly find anything in that heap, he had gone on the defensive and told her there was just no way that she could understand that within the state of anarchy, he more or less knew where everything was. _Hopefully he wasn't such a slob now that he was a button-down family man._

Feet resting across the crushed velvet ottoman tucked partially below the shelf that held her printer, she thought she may as well check up on anything she might have missed in the past few weeks. Primarily checking for any new jobs that might have come along while she'd been otherwise engaged, the woman sat back at the computer and scanned the contents of her inbox.

Ad, spam, spam, another rubbish ad, a virus waiting to snare an unsuspecting fool, advert.

Nada. Absolutely nothing. Not even a quick 'hi, made it to my brother's, we're fine' or 'remember, next week is the party'.

Speaking of kids, when was the last time she'd spoken to Meenu? E-mails and texts not the same, Chloe could feel the guilt creeping in that it had been longer than it should have been; deciding to skip the digital, the thief gave the young woman a call.

"Hey, kiddo."

 **Ruan** **Jian - Game Over?**

No matter how old he got or what his elders said, playing video games was one of the few tasks that could completely hold his attention, just as easily as it could take him away from the pressures of leadership. If the fictional worlds didn't, one of his absurdly beautiful companions certainly could. But not tonight. Even in conjunction with one another, there was just no forgetting what had happened.

His bride-to-be had gone ghost, however she would not leave him be. Escape technically occurring on his watch, his superiors definitely weren't going to let him forget about this any time soon, and just the sight of any of his subordinates served to only remind him of his failure. Yet it was more than that, there had been something she had said that refused to leave his head. At the time he'd thought it was just a stupid comment from a frightened little girl, but now he wasn't so sure...

Obviously she had meant to play with his head for what Angel and Ashley had done, but did it have to torture him so!? Was it not merely enough that she humiliated him?! That just one more mistake could very well mean his life?! Had she no compassion at all?

Vilifying the girl so that he might sleep better at night, he hadn't thought about what his men did in his name before, so why should that change that now? Fearsome and respected, the operation had been a smooth one, so what need was there to dwell on how it got that way? History itself was a bloody affair, and what the text books said was only the prettier half of it.

Yet no matter how much he tried to justify his position, to forget the girl, Jian could not. In his game room she haunted him, when he tried to touch his pretty playmates she was a spectral spectator, and even when he tried to take a shower before bed. She was there.

He wanted to scream at the heavens, what was he supposed to do? He'd grown too comfortable in his role, and Angel and Ashley were terrible monsters that had no real incentive to remain loyal if they didn't want to, so what could be done? The facade he put on was a cold bastard, but it had to be that way to continue with the charade, because if he were to show the harmless slacker that resided within, he would lose everything.

 **Nadine Ross - Yoga Is Not Calming, Not Matter What Anyone Else Tells you**

Forgetting how lonely it could be in the city, the woman wondered if the move had been the right choice after all. Nadine could handle anything, even a little solitude, but the noises in her mind were harder to quiet when they were still buzzing about all that trouble with the Adler girl. Obviously it was far from done, but this breather might be good for everyone, a chance at a fresh perspective.

Hang on a minute, a breather! That just might be the remedy she needed!

Recalling what Chloe had taught her (or rather tried to teach her) about meditation and yoga, the woman frowned at the bare walls when little came to mind. To be fair the lessons had been ages ago, so forgetting wasn't necessarily a sign that she was getting old. Stubbornly set on the decision, she sat on the floor in her bedroom, drew a deep breath, and held it there as her mind instructed her on what she thought was supposed to come next.

Body still as it was going to get, Nadine laid flat on her stomach and brought her legs up, one at a time. _Okay, it wasn't so bad_ , she thought to herself. Not sure how it was supposed to be helpful, but stretching did help runners limber up before a race, so there was something to it.

Glad that she was in a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, the woman took one stance and then another. Unaware of what was going to be too difficult for a beginner and what some of the actual poses even were, it wasn't long before she was out of her depth and stuck in a pretzel-shape. Unsure of how to get out of it without giving up, she fell on her side only to miss the mark and land rather painfully on her shoulder.

Screw yoga!

 **Angel + Ashley - Everyone Loves Ice Cream**

Hopelessly in love with the contents of the drilling section, Angel could practically feel the saliva spilling down the chin as shaded eyes ogled the display. So many different varieties and features to pick from, they could have spent all day there in the hardware store! Although they really didn't need to, because the right one came to the millenial, just as it had before - steel-platted, rechargeable, heavy duty with three speeds and a plethora of different heads, it was as if the heavens themselves wanted the mangler to buy this particular drill.

The money was there in the bank for one, and considering that the last one still needed to be replaced, it would have been a good investment. But if they purchased something that wasn't on the list then they'd have to get something for Ash too.

Petulant child that Ashley was, fair was fair. "Ash," turning just enough to keep from being a complete asshole, Angel decided to play nice, "how about I get you that new bolt-action crossbow you've been eying?"

Still moody and pouting about the girl eluding their net, Ashley was almost inconsolable, and that meant that only one thing would work to return the smile Angel so dearly cherished. _Damn it all, even like this, there was no bounds to the sway the social media royal held._ The problem was that Angel knew exactly what it was the other one needed to be happy, but it was so juvenile and pathetic that the mere thought burned.

All a matter of pride and personal preference, Ashley knew that Angel knew what had to be done. Until then, there was only the world in the phone. "Pass."

Pass. So very mature. Sometimes Angel had to wonder how Ashley was the love to end all loves. Sighing in defeat, and because the drill was almost glowing for how hard it was beckoning, the hipster finally nodded, "Fine, we can stop by the ice cream place on the way back."

Grinning like a kid in a candy shop just from the promise alone, Ashley pocketed the phone and kissed Angel passionately right there in the middle of the aisle, not caring who saw. Granted they usually didn't. "I fucking love you, babe."

* * *

 **AN:**

Wow, I did not expect to finish TWO chapters in one day! So yeah, if you're just skipping ahead to the newest chapter as it comes, this might just throw you through a loop, so just in case :)


	48. And How Did That Work For You?

**\- Chapter Forty-Three -**

 **And How Did That Work For You?**

That probably should have been the end of it. But no, Samuel still had a bone to pick.

Peace tenuous at best in those next few seconds, one could argue that even a forced truce was better than all out war. On a good day, he might have agreed with that sentiment, however today was not a good day: his ward had caught the scent on the air; the poxy swine tender was defiant; and he was being tested at every possible opportunity. So no, today was not a good day. Today was a shit day, and tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.

God, if he had to count every crappy thing that had transpired on his hand, he would run out of room before he could even brush the quarter mark. To top that off, everything that happened since arriving at his brother's place was probably only going to set the snowflake off and scar her for life. _Well, what was left of her_.

Frankly the only positive thing was that Daniella had been embarrassed into silence and was trying to turn away so he didn't catch the ruby flush in her cheeks, but he knew.

 _Be thankful_ , he thought to himself, the temptation to strangle her still very real.

In his own way Sam had been trying, he really had, but everything was just going every possible shade of wrong.

Nathan and Elena were simply better at this kind of thing, so in hindsight the brunette obviously should have just left it to them. But no, like a jackass, he had to be the one to tend to the weeping baby girl. _And what a great job I'm doing!_ There wasn't exactly a planned monologue for how this was supposed to go, but if there had been, he wouldn't have gotten around the assert yourself portion until near the end. Or maybe the beginning, but it certainly wasn't going to come out like it did.

"Wow." Achieving victory on the grounds of disqualification, it wasn't enough for the ex-con, so he pressed her harder, "If I were Angel I'd be shaking in my shorts." Mocking Dells for her mercy he may have gone a step too far, but in his frustration, he didn't immediately get that and was just spewing out whatever came to mind.

Hearing Angel's name broke something in the girl, and not in the usual way that left semi-visible cracks on the veneer.

Ice, the young woman outgrew her embarrassment like an indigobird in a firefinch nest and retaliated as if the hipster were the one standing opposite her. Tapping deep into even the furthest catalogs of her training, the rules of self-defense suddenly quite hazy, she shoved Sam again. Heel of her hands flat against his chest with her fingernails digging into her palms, this time the bastard was going down!

Despite being knocked down on his ass with a satisfying thud, her foot still had a fair deal more to say. Suffering the wrath of the first instep without much of a choice in the matter, the man acted on instinct and didn't take the next stomp idly. Quicker than she'd given him credit for, he had skillfully managed to get his foot around her ankle without her noticing. Eye for an eye, he tripped her and sent her crashing down in turn.

Both sprawled out horizontally on the pale sands, the scene could (and by all rights should) have played out very differently. _But fuck me and what I want_. Rolling to the side and picking himself up before she could get the drop on him again, it was all Sam could do to remind himself who he was dealing with. _If you gotta hit her..._ Doorways responsible for two-thirds of the most recent damage, the heiress had taken her fair share of lumps, although to her credit she didn't look any worse for wear. A little sandy maybe, but otherwise she was in one piece.

More or less.

Form a solid seven, Daniella sprung up with a display of savagery that was legitimately disconcerting.

 _See, she was totally fine_!

"You won't get away with it!" Sable world closing in around her in spite of the sun, the young woman screamed loud enough to be heard clear on the other side of the island. Beyond everything but blind fury at that point, the only thing Daniella could see was Angel and Ashley standing in the pawn shop. Happy and popping their gum as they chronicled that old woman bartering with the clerk. Had they targeted her too, or was that just what they did in their spare time? "You won't!"

 _Or not_.

Initially there had been no reason to regret getting away from the others, however now that the possibly secretly unhinged young woman was on a rampage, the thief was suddenly of a different opinion. Throwing up his arms to block what he couldn't tuck and dodge (which at his age was more than he cared to admit), the thief was reminded of the same manic spirit that overtook Rafe in a fight. Even just a practice run that wasn't supposed to be taken seriously.

 _Rafe._ The ex-smoker might not have had clean hands in this either, but if there was anyone to blame it was that rat bastard. After all, he was the girl's father and therefore responsible for her wiring. Especially as it was beginning to look just as faulty.

 _Shit, I can't hit her back_! Grappling with his grievances, he played out a number of scenarios in his head, and none of them ended particularly well.

Annoyed, even bordering on full-on rage at moments, there was no way that Sam was going to do more than defend himself! The fist balling itself was just itching to end this - _come on, like 75% effort wouldn't really hurt her_ \- but it wouldn't be right. Unable to see clearly, Dells obviously wasn't in her right head, and he'd maybe touched the wrong nerve.

Still though, the historian wasn't such a saint that he was going to just let her try to beat him to a pulp; catching her next blow before it could land, he held fast to her right wrist and twisted. It wasn't an overly dickish twist, just enough to capture the second wrist and maybe make her think twice about proceeding. Frankly it probably would have ended up being more regrettable if he hadn't acted.

Growling like a feral cat and struggling against the man until their foreheads were touching, by the time the crowd had gathered, it wasn't going to be long until one or both of them were on their knees. _Would it have killed them to hurry the hell up_? _What, did they break for coffee on the way?!_ Statistically speaking Sam should have had the advantage over Daniella in terms of strength, but she was holding her own considerably well under the circumstances.

 _Crack_! Sensing by the arrival of additional bodies that her victory might be denied her, the girl knocked her on remaining weapon in to her perceived foe's, sending a resounding slam throughout the island. Drowned in sweat and now sporting a monster headache (take your pick who was worse off there), they may have tired one another out, but she had paid back the hole in her shoulder.

More reparation to come, before she knew what had happened there were hands folding around her waist, a pair of strong arms ripping her away from her enemy before justice could be served. Immediately her mind had gone to Sam, but they weren't on the best of terms either. _Wait_...something seemed off, but she couldn't quite place what.

Airborne and free of her tormentor, Daniella tried to kick out at Angel, to reach any part of him that she possibly could, "Call your goons off! Fight me like a man!"

Proximity too close to avoid getting tagged, the thief was definitely going to be sporting the girl's handiwork for the next couple of days.

Elena helped Sam get back up on his feet, questions burning in her bright avocado shutters; like the cameras she so adored, there was no doubt that she would be taking all of this in. So long as she didn't begin to do her job on the spot, the TV personality could think or do whatever she pleased. Honestly he was just relieved that the other two were holding Dells back from making him just another pretty smear on the pearly pebbles.

Using the opportunity to look a little deeper than the infinitesimal salty sands stuck to Daniella's face, he saw a frightened five-year old boy that had just lost his mother, an older brother scrounging to keep his head above the water.

 _Nathan_... Gaze flickering over to his little brother while he struggled to keep the she-beast at bay as the doctor attempted to soothe her, Sam remembered a time shortly after Sullivan had come into the picture. His position had immediately been threatened by the arrival of the other man, and he'd said some truly regrettable things. For the life of him he couldn't recall the specifics, yet he'd never forget the fight that had ensued. The hurt look on his sibling's face.

 _Did I just make that same mistake again? So much for learning from history._.. Berating himself even as the girl realized her fight was lost, the brunette saw something flicker and die in her gaze. Resigned and slumped forward, one could almost dare to hope that she had regained her senses, but no.

Hair falling forward to obscure most of her face, the longer he stared the clearer it became that there was a darkness, the shadow of the monster that Bai hid in her closet for those that she supposedly loved, the expectations of a ghost. Terrible secrets lurked in that hollow void, regrets and insecurities shifting below the surface but no less dangerous. It would have been easy to say that the pressure had gotten to her, but that wasn't quite the case. It was close to the truth, but there was more behind her eyes than anyone her age should have had to deal with.

"I hate you." Waves lapping gently not too far away, seagulls cawed a little ways into the background as they came out to fish for their dinner. Unsure if she had directed the words at him or not, there was part of the man that wished he were on the menu instead.


	49. Fruit Salad

**\- Chapter Forty-Four -**

 **Fruit Salad**

When and how had things come to this? A far cry from where they had been merely a day or two ago, it was strange to think that they would end up in this place. Yet there they were all the same, sitting together on the recently stained veranda, acting as if nothing had happened.

Chairs rearranged since the last time he had visited (probably due to the rare act of caring for the property), in their current positions the pair were in front of the window, overlooking the sea. And roughly half a dancing wind chime each. Potted leaves no longer tickling the side of his head in this new set-up, there was nothing but the breathtakingly picturesque sunset on the glimmering waves and Cassie playing the sun to sleep for company.

A step above being called a novice, the blonde girl strumming in the corner was more preoccupied with getting the chords right on her guitar than she was with what her uncle was up to. She said she was trying to learn a particular song, even going so far as to play the actual tune for him, but he wasn't hearing it. As for her parents, Elena was out shopping for more groceries with Rafael in tow, and the last time any of them had seen Nathan, he was making sandwiches in the kitchen.

Mercifully Cass ordered a stack of peanut butter and banana, and Dells hadn't voiced a preference, however Sam wasn't about to make domesticity easy for his little brother. Ordering a smoked honey ham and cheese on rye, he'd specified not only the cut of the bread but the type of cheese as well.

Nate, knowing his big brother like he did, had made a convincing act of listening to the order, however if anyone actually believed he was going to break his back slaving in the kitchen they were dead wrong. It was peanut butter and banana for everyone, a bag of sun-dried chips on the side, milk for Cass, and a bottle of beer for the adults.

 **[Orange You Glad I Didn't Say Banana? Aka Yesterday]**

"Anyone else want something?" Grabbing herself an orange from a brightly patterned fruit bowl on the counter, a miniature hybrid of the younger brother and the blonde woman inquired before going to the fridge for something to drink. Not a lot went with oranges in her opinion, but there was a certain wisdom in having some kind of beverage with any type of food. "We have water, some kind of soda - I think - and juice in the back. There's also some peach tea if milady's inclined."

Definitely her father's daughter, Cassie's reception was lukewarm at best, although her old man started to crack a smile behind the girl's back. From her uncle there was the usual shrug accompanied by a simple and just as predictable inquiry of "But did your dad get good beer this time?"

Granted the courtesy of a heads up this once, albeit said warning was all of a shadow of a window, Nathan and Elena had gone to the store in town to stock up on a few amenities. Shampoo, a spare toothbrush for their guest, toilet paper, and plenty of grocery options at the top of the list, as fate would have it beer was in fact one such luxury they invested in. Apparently it turned out that they should have gotten more than one extra toothbrush, but no one could say that the couple would be utterly unprepared.

What had caught everyone - literally everyone - by surprise was the heiress asking after "something stronger than tea". Frankly she didn't look the type, but that just goes to show that you can't ever judge a book by its cover.

Educated in the dangers of mixing booze and heavy prescription-strength meds as well as anyone else her age, it was just the young woman's fall back source of solace. Shutting her mouth into a tight line after the request had been made, it was clear that she knew she was pressing her luck, however if there was ever a time to break the rules and just indulge, this was it. She'd probably never see these people ever again, so why should it matter if they thought she was some kind of horrible?

"Let's just say that dark rooms and bad deals give me a certain kind of..." struggling to find the right word so that she didn't sound like a complete socialite brat, Daniella was torn between 'entitlement' and 'privilege', "leeway."

Sam said nothing, but her words had struck a nerve all the same.

"Funny you should mention that." Elena joined her daughter in the kitchen and grabbed two bottles from the back of the fridge. The first went to Sam - obviously - and the second she offered to Rafael, who declined with a single head shake. Approving of the young man already, the photographer smiled at what seemed to be a much safer bet for the heiress to invest in. "Nate and I agree."

While buying the liquor the couple had had a lengthy discussion about the law, the approximate age of their guest, and her unfortunate circumstances. Raised more honestly than her husband, on the drive to town Elena had naturally been against just throwing the girl a cold one, however by the time they'd gotten to the store she had allowed that it was inevitable that the heiress would get her hands on at least one bottle. Teens just had that kind of skill. She also conceded that it was probably safer to have the girl doing it under their roof than alone outside where anything could happen.

Nate, on the other hand, was not looking forward to Cass pointing out the hypocrisy of letting the older girl drink while flirting so dangerously with the age of consent. Unpleasant as that conversation was going to be, he figured that the young woman had more than earned it, if only for who her family was. Besides, the way he understood it she was close enough to the legal drinking age that it was gray in his book. How old had he been when Sam had let him have his first beer? How old was he when Sully realized that he would drink what he pleased?

Easy enough to see that they had agreed it was going to happen one way or another, the hard part was coming up with a justification that would let them sleep at night. Technically neither of their responsibilities, by the time they'd gotten home to help Cassie with her homework, both parents concluded that they wouldn't police what the girl put into her body, however they would hold the person that brought her accountable.

In light of some of the new information to surface, as well as that scene on the beach, the blonde was less sure about the decision, however she still handed the bottle over. "Seeing as these are special circumstances," eyes falling on both girls to make it clear that this was a serious act of trust and was a one-time only kind of deal, Elena hesitated before letting go completely, "for the duration of your stay here we're going to treat you like an adult. No bedtime, no rules, however, there is a 'but' attached to all of this. Nate?"

None the wiser about her real age than he was the extent of the relationship his brother had with the girl, Nathan nodded to back up his spouse, like a good team does, "I was gonna crack wise about asses here, but considering one of them belongs to my own flesh and blood, that's a hard pass."

"Wait," remaining unnaturally quiet and keeping to himself as he opened his beer, Sam had simply been watching to see how Dells was received, so he had no clue why he was being dragged into this, "what does my ass have to do with anything?" He'd originally surmised that everything would go swimmingly, and then she had to go and drop a bombshell like that stunt earlier.

It wasn't exactly like Sam had expected them to look after Dells they way they did their own daughter, but come on, wasn't that just how they were wired now? Letting the girl help herself to the beer should have have gone against every fiber of their beings! So far little thing hadn't shown herself to become unruly while under the influence of liquor, but had it really been too much to hope that mom and dad would help keep her in line? More than just concern that the young woman would hog all the beer for herself, the brunette was worried about what ideas she might get in her head now that...

 _Now that I opened Pandora's box_.

"You're kidding, right?" Nathan shook his head in disbelief, "Sam, this is your job, so as far as we're concerned she's your responsibility. Rafe's little girl wants her sippy cup, you better be there with a burping cloth and a hand to hold her hair back when her face gets intimately acquainted with the inside of a toilet."

Conditions sounding more than fair, Daniella nodded her consent. Popping the metal cap off the slender glass neck with a stunning display of familiarity, the young woman took her first swig in what felt like a year; burning her mouth and throat as it went down, this was still preferable to going without. "Thanks. I'll try not to disappoint you too."

 **[Sunset On The Patio]**

Strumming the intro as she failed yet again to string together the correct notes in time, Cassie groaned and reset her hands into the correction positions. The girl was adamant that she'd master the guitar, and the first step was nailing this one song. With as much as she practiced, the music was practically seared into her head; the rub was that she sometimes got ahead of herself. Or her fingers would miss their mark.

 _A minor, long pause, F, C_

 _A minor, hold it, F, and then stall before C_

 _A minor, rinse and repeat the F, linger just a bit more before the C_

 _A minor, not quite as long a delay, F, bring that C in closer to home_

"Shit!" Brow knitting together, the blonde focused so intently on her project that she hadn't caught her father coming outside with the food, even though she was facing the house.

"Language!" Scolding his daughter for words that just about everyone used, Nathan set the family-sized platter of sandwiches down on the low brown table between the three. With so much to carry, he figured that once the ingrates knew that the food was done they'd get the clue to scamper off to the kitchen for their own damn drinks.

Cassie didn't even look up she was so engrossed, and Sam seemed a million miles away. Was he thinking about what was said on the beach? Did he regret the decisions that led to that point? Or was he more troubled that the girl claimed to have no recollection of the encounter whatsoever? All things considered, Nate wasn't all that shocked his big brother was lost in thought - he would have been too in that position.

Lifting one off the plate with a soft thanks to the chef, Rafe's kid settled back in her seat. She seemed rather transfixed by the lapping of the tide, the blue devouring the white without a second thought, but otherwise was silent as a church mouse. "Thank you."

Pleased that at least someone had some manners, he nodded at her and turned back around to get the drinks (completely forgetting about the chips). Honestly he was having a hard time reconciling this docile young woman with the frothing lunatic he had had to rip off his brother, but it was definitely the same one. _The apple sure didn't fall far from the crazy tree_.

Banana slice slipping slowly from between the bread as she went to take a bite, Daniella plucked the mushy circlet out before it could fall, set the sandwich down on her leg, and ate it first instead. She liked bananas, she always had. Mama used to encourage her to eat them all the time, yet as the heiress got older the woman would start to freak out if anyone saw her eating them. Well anything really, but foods of certain shapes just made her lose it.

Go figure.

 **[Hot Dog! Aka Another Time, Another Place]**

Classmates all in a titter about the next subject on the board, Daniella kept checking her watch, lamenting that time was going inordinately slow. All at the age where they were more hormone than human, she supposed that she couldn't blame them for getting worked up about the concept, especially as the teacher was almost model levels of good-looking... But honestly the Adler heiress would have rather been anywhere else. _Please just let today be over!_

Repetitive action not eluding the notice of the teacher, Jay tapped the three letter world scrawled across the rectangular expanse then proceeded to point the yard stick at her in particular, singling the girl out. Previously content in a swarm of giggles and verbal fantasies whispered to neighbors in a barely audible hush, the vultures turned their collective gaze to their prey. Accustomed to the suave older man torturing her for his own amusement, she knew knew that she was going to hate whatever happened next.

"Tut, tut." Milking the attention as he plunged through the rows of adoring students to the back corner where the heiress cowered - feigning ignorance of the hearts in their eyes as he went - the man perched comfortably on the edge of her desk. Charismatic and free as they came, Jay was a very hands-on educator. "I fear I'm boring the skirt off of Miss Adler."

 _If only_ , his eyes said.

Casual Friday the student body were more or less allowed to wear whatever they pleased, although in her case it was more what others preferred her to wear.

Mama desired a lady, her new step-father an idol, and Jay something more sinful, so that entailed a bevy of tights, no shortage of heels, every known scent of perfume, short skirts or dresses, and the face of the modern woman. _I guess two of seven days for myself isn't so bad. As Shen taught me, it's more than some get_.

"Unfortunately by law I'm not allowed to be more hands-on with this topic," he said that, yet he visibly touched the side of her face and flashed a cheeky grin for the rest, "but I try my best. If you have a better way of covering this topic, please, let me know."

"No, sir, I don't-"

Leading the witness exactly where he wanted her to go, the teacher would have made a terrible (or suburb, depending on what you were looking for) lawyer. Although the real crime should have been how good he looked doing it. "Then you just know better than I do?"

"No-"

Defense overrated in his opinion, he was prepared to cut her off at every available opportunity. Whatever it took to watch the 'amira squirm. "Oh, but I think that you think you do." Taking great joy in the shade her cheeks were glowing, Jay was sure to remember the moment for life. "In her head, Miss Adler clearly has everything all figured out."

"I don't!" Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, she was no better than a worm on a hook. A fat, wriggling worm.

Shaking his head with a sigh, he bemoaned - nay, downright detested that so many roses allowed themselves to wilt prematurely. At least somewhat sincere in his profession, Jay honestly wanted to see a day where his students would shine. "Don't sell yourself short, Miss Adler. Not like so many of the others. Show me the fire I know you keep locked away! Like your classmates, I'm sure you know something." Predatory gaze of the hunter gleaming in his green eyes, Daniella wasn't the only one he looked at; catching the eyes of a handful of others, she was only the last.

At a loss, the girl became truly crimson as she slunk down in her seat. What was she supposed to say to that?!

Jay saw he would just have to try a little harder with this one. "Shame. But I don't want it said that I'm not a fair guy - so I'll make you a deal." There was real potential in the girl, if only she let herself put in the effort. "Instead of sending you to detention for disrupting my class yet again, we'll try a little exercise to get you out of your shell."

"How...?" Questioning what was in store, she realized with a start that she had almost forgotten her manners. "Sir?"

A single word was printed clear as day on the board, because there were several facts and cautions he could pass on to his audience, too many to bother writing in fact. As fate would have it, of all the things they could have been discussing, the current point was on safety and prevention. _I love my job_. "I want you... to help me demonstrate the proper way to put on a condom."

Eyes wide enough to throw across a field and report to Area 51, she gasped, "On you?! In front of everyone?!" Daniella may have been panic-stricken, however everyone else was too busy laughing at such an absurd and stupid statement to think for even a moment there was a deeper context. Sure the popular girls were all probably blowing the professor for higher grades, but why would the most popular teacher in the school waste time on the likes of her?

Won over by the mere thought of being so bold, at the same time he wasn't about to jeopardize his potion at the school. Tutoring privately had proven problematic, however so far he'd managed to keep that off the record.

Hunger in his eyes all the same, Jay shook his head and held up a hand to quiet the gales of laughter filling the room. "Not quite, Miss Adler." Standing up and dusting himself off just for show, the man flashed that knee-weakening smile he had one more time. "I was thinking more like showing me how you'd put it on one of the bananas."

 _Duh_. There had only been an obvious box of them on his desk. Bananas! Well, rubbers too, but up until that point she'd done everything she could to not pay attention to those.

"Right." Wow, way to look like the world's biggest idiot in front of people that didn't particularly care for her in the first place. "But..." Getting personal, the heiress had recently learned how to put a rubber on on her partner, only she'd never used her hands to do it before. "I've never..."

Trailing off awkwardly, Daniella couldn't have been any more red if she ran through the art department and jumped in all the paint they had. Naked. Even more nerve-wracking? The fact that her classmates couldn't have gotten any louder. Mostly it was just snorts and guffaws, but some of the meaner souls made jokes about her having never even seen a dick, or that she had seen too many but never bothered with safety. There were worse as well, but like usual the heiress pretended not to hear.

"You won't even try for me? I'm deeply disappointed in you, Miss Adler." Waiting for the teen to follow him before returning to the front of the room, he left her no choice. "Do we need to have another discussion after class about your behavior?"

Head hung low, Daniella knew she was beaten. "No, sir."

"Good girl!" Beam widening, Jay subtly ran his hand along another girl's gartered thigh and grazed the top of a different student's hand on the way up to the front. Whether by design or fluke, the heiress saw.

 **[Sunset On The Patio, pt II]**

Words echoing in his head like a record stuck on repeat, the brunette was so far down in his own thoughts that he'd barely registered the beer Nathan had handed him. Handed Dells to pass along to him? Or had his little brother set them on the table, and he'd automatically grabbed it? Somehow there was an open beer in his hand, the burning wash of alcohol draining down the back of his throat. It warmed his cheeks in the damp breeze, but he didn't want to be warm - he wanted to be numb.

More wounded by those three little words than he should have been, Sam didn't know if that was Daniella still laboring under the delusion that he was that psychopathic millennial or if she had turned against him. She had ample motive and even a new god, but had she really been callous enough to just abandon him like this? Breaking his new personal rule, the thief cast a sideways peek at the downcast silhouette to his right.

Hair now a pale phantasm and tickling her shoulders, fresh bandages poked out beneath the rolled back sleeves of a silver sweater, crinkling at the wrist as she took a swig. Half a bottle gone already, Dells was sitting a little less straight than her norm, one foot under the table as if she meant to fly away. Maybe she would.

Silent in her stargazing but sending missed signals down on earth, he tried to not think about the way her knee was touching his, or that her eyes kept flicking in his direction when she thought he wasn't looking.

"You're so lucky," sighing dreamily with a last look at the expanding heavens, Daniella addressed Nathan as he climbed into the hammock at the other end of the porch, "what I wouldn't give for a view like this!"

Elbow bumping into Sam's, he noted dimly that she didn't move it away immediately. Not even after a few moments of prolonged contact.

Nate was taken aback by the compliment, shocked that someone so ridiculously wealthy wouldn't have a dozen places with views a hundred times more splendid than this little slice of paradise. "Come on, I'm sure you have plenty of homes with better."

Daniella shook her head, a far-away look in her eyes, "Mama likes the manor on the city limits the best, so that's where we live. There's a beautiful stretch of river, but the smog and pollutants don't really let much through." Of the other estates, there were a handful with this kind of scenic backdrop, however they were also lacking something that was special to this place.

"Astronomy something you interested in?" Venturing into a conversation once he caught on that the heiress was actually opening up, the adventurer reminded himself not for the first time to not bring up her father. His big brother still hadn't gotten around to explaining what had happened, and as guilty as he felt for his part in events, the truth really should have come from Sam. _Although if he didn't get off his ass soon..._

Fidgeting in her seat, the motions were too small to see with the naked eye, however the brunette was certain that he wasn't imagining it. Dells was deliberately pressing into him, her little finger shyly dancing back and forth over the armrest as she inched her way over to taking his. There was some space between the chairs, and if anyone cared to pay attention, what she was doing wouldn't have been very secret.

Bobbing her head in earnest, the young woman nodded with an impassioned flush, "Yeah!" Clearing her throat, she amended in a much calmer tone. "Yeah. Not just astronomy but history and adventure, action..." About to go into a long list, she took a deep breath and started again. "Honestly I really love to learn, dumb as that sounds."

He looked at the girl as if she had just given him the secret to the universe. _Dumb!?_ Nate wanted to know if it was possible to adopt her!

 _Anything to take me away._ "Actually," she confessed without thinking out the consequences, "I was looking around at some of the books you guys have, and there probably isn't one that I wouldn't like to peruse in my spare time..." She wouldn't dare ask to borrow a single tome under the circumstances, but it couldn't have been clearer that she was hoping she might get invited back for the opportunity.

 _Seriously, what are the odds that Elena would let me keep her?_

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

The song Cassie is playing in Ed Sheeran's 'Give Me Love'. I went through a fair few songs, but when I heard this it fit in all the criteria I had set: more or less means something to the situation, is relatively easy to play (okay, the site ultimate-guitar said intermediate), isn't too on the nose, and is by a singer that I think will be recognized roughly fifteen years from now.

Also, the "Orange You Glad" section was something I wrote rough four, five chapters ago. Happy I finally got to make use of it!


	50. There Is A Light

**\- Chapter Forty-Five -**

 **There Is A Light**

"What are some of your favorites?" Swaying in the breeze and enjoying his own beer as the spoke, considering how ecstatically the heiress had replied to his last inquiry, Nathan wasn't expecting a concrete answer. Sure she probably had first editions of everything, and in triplicate at that, however as an avid reader himself, he was always excited to meet another. "You strike me like a total Poe girl."

Really? Freaking everyone was all about Poe! Sure, some of his stuff was interesting (and her father had had a fair deal of it), it just never really clicked with her. "Hardly." Scoffing, there were several authors and works that the girl enjoyed, however she went with the first one to come to mind. "Too morbid, and I get enough crap as it is. Although, if we're talking mainstream, I really enjoy Gatsby. The twenties were an interesting time, and there's just something about the way Fitzgerald describes it all... I don't know. It's probably the most cliché answer, but it's the closest thing to romance I like."

"Pretty dark for romance." Nate chuckled, testing the waters to see if she was comfortable enough to tease, "Sure you don't mean that glowy vampire chick-lit? Or the one with the arrows? From what I hear there was a very compelling love-triangle."

Suppressing a shudder, Daniella broke her unspoken connection with Sam for the first time. "Eww. Vampire fiction isn't really my thing. And romance?" Sneering at the very idea, the bitterness flowed like poisoned honey. "My parents wanted an intellectual, so they never left me a lot in way of the genre. I'll give you familial love, but romantic love is the biggest lie they will ever sell us. Good for the ones that want to be told the world revolves around love, but come on, we all know that isn't really the case. There's lust, co-dependence, and even mutual benefit, but hearts-and-flowers, dancing all night under the lights just to be close, one soul for life? No."

Cut by the icy cynicism in the young woman even though it wasn't necessarily being directed at him, the younger Drake brother was no longer sure about telling his wife they had lost Cassie at sea and were in need of a handy replacement daughter. "Ouch."

"In general." Realizing her error a second too late, she added hastily, "There's an exception to every rule, I find."

 _Better_ , he thought to himself as some of the sting was eased. Elena alone worth more than the sum of every treasure he had ever seen, the band-aid wouldn't be ready to come off anytime soon, but at least it was a start. "You must have been a fun prom date."

Nerve touched, Daniella began to clam back up, "I... wouldn't know."

Air freezing over in a rock-hard sheen around the young woman, the happily married father of one may as well have asked her about how last year's father-daughter dance went. And speaking of fathers and daughters and the sacred bond they could share, while the heiress was cooling off Cassie let out rather long yawn. Little bones sore and the skin that much tougher for the next day, the blonde was ready for bed, even if she didn't want to admit it. Figuring that Elena would probably be at least another hour (seriously, if they charged for what they lost in food alone, they could charter a second crew), Nathan decided unilaterally that it was time to put Cass down. Usually she was pretty good about minding the rules, but every year around this time she got rather lax.

Grateful for the interruption, Nate set his beer on the balcony and stood up, clearing his throat as he rose. "Cass? Care to walk your old man to bed?"

Stopping the song at the second verse, the child tried to stifle another yawn and failed magnificently. "But the night - ghhummmm - the night is still so young..." Looking for any excuse to prolong her practice and enjoy the weather a little longer (despite being that tired), the blonde didn't have to scan her surroundings long to catch the way Sam's girlfriend was trying to slide under him from her seat. What else could it be called, when her leg was pretty much glued to his, the rest of her body leaning cockeyed? _She's totally trying to steal third!_

"You're younger. Come on Cass, I still have to clean up the kitchen before your mom gets back from the store." Taking the guitar from his daughter, Nathan motioned her to get the plate, since apparently no one was going to touch the last sandwich. Sam must've been really out of sorts, to not even bother; ever since... well, forever, Nate hadn't known his big brother to skimp on a meal when there was enough to go around. "We both know your mom will ground _me_ if she sees that you're still up at this hour on a school night."

"Then who'll keep an eye on these two?" Still undecided on how she felt about her uncle's 'friend', the girl was at the age where she didn't completely entirely know what it was couples (or anyone in a relationship for that matter) did. Under the impression that it was inappropriate or bad, Cassie had the feeling that the minute they were left alone, they would be right at it. Whatever _IT_ was.

Aware that there was something between his big brother and Rafe's little girl - something that was probably better off unexplored - Nathan knew that whatever ended up happening, it was their business. He and Elena had only asked that they keep it clean around their daughter. "Eh, I'm not worried." Whatever there was, there was a stagnation, "But if it makes you feel any better, the big one will watch the little one, and the little one...?"

"Will watch the big one." Cassie finished the sentence for her father.

Not entirely convinced that they would behave, another ear-popping yawn did sway the blonde that it was indeed her bedtime. Not that she would confess that out loud. "Hear that? You two better be good!"

Daniella couldn't help but grin at the fire in Cassie, "Night, little Cassiopeia. Night." She and Nathan nodded to one another. In terms of address, the heiress wanted so badly to call him Mr. Drake, but there were a few things preventing her from letting the honorific past her lips. Mostly it was that she had called Sam Mr. Drake for so long that it just felt strange. It wasn't like it was a pet name or anything, it was just... It wasn't right.

Sam waved at the departing pair, but not one of them bought for a second that he was really behind the motion.

"Good night." Grabbing the plate (and sandwich), like her mother before her she scarfed the cold bread with unexpected fervor, following all the way to the front door. "Hmm," Cass reflected as she chewed, now speaking exclusively to her father, "that's a good sandwich. I see you've upped your cooking stats by one."

Man, people always used to go on about how girls were delicate things like flowers, but dammit if he wasn't getting cut by hidden shivs on all sides today. _Too bad Chloe's missing out on this_ , he mused dryly. "One? Really? That sandwich is at least two times better than last time! You know it."

Cassie shrugged as they went inside, Sam and Daniella as good as forgotten in the middle of the debate. "Meh. Maybe if you had set out a side dish to balance out the sticky-sweetness..."

Out of earshot so that that rest of the sentence was scarce more than white noise, Daniella politely closed the door behind them and returned to her seat. Eyes on the sea earlier that night, the constant pounding of the deep blue had stirred a few things within the heiress - she had even thought about stealing Sam away to lure him out behind the office - but her talk with Nathan had killed that. It was a good talk to be sure, and so nice to get back to the thoughts of the page, however it brought up more than anticipated.

Liquid courage an apt name for it, the young woman nursed what was left in her bottle before looking at Sam. Tilting her head, she wondered if he even realized that the others had gone back inside. _He's so quiet lately... Is he mad at me_? The thief was roughly a third of the way through his beer, but from what she could tell he hadn't missed a single drink. _What happened that day?_

Drinks only going to do so much to get her through what had to be done, Daniella figured she'd try to multi-task. "Is there a green light?" Speaking directly to her protector, a part of her was expecting to have to repeat herself half a hundred times before he resounded, only that turned out to not be the case at all.

"Huh?" The brunette's eyes became a little less glazed over and he looked up first at where his niece had been sitting, then to where his companion waited patiently for an answer.

"At the end of the pier. Is there a green light?"

 _Of course she'd read Gatsby_. Shaking the stupor off and running his fingers through his hair, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the packet of smokes he'd picked up at the convenience store last night. So much for the bet this year. "I haven't seen one." Putting the cigarette between his teeth, he drew his lighter and lit up.

Eyes closed, the ex-con took a moment to truly appreciate just how long he had managed to go without.

"Well could you show me anyways?" Thinking she was clumsily trying to flirt by 'accidentally' bumping her leg against his, the ghost that had formerly been Dells reached out and touched his arm.

The young woman wished she had the nerve to be completely honest, to just say that she had something to ask him but was too scared to hear the answer. It wasn't much, but her plan was to hope that by the time they reached the end of their walk she'd either find the courage or just magically forget what had been on her mind. Maybe it was just the haircut emboldening her - frankly she couldn't be sure - but for the stronger thing that had taken the reigns, there wasn't enough of an overhaul to give her true courage.

Telling her to go herself was clearly not an option, as she still refused to go anywhere without a chaperon. The hotel was the worst. Staying under the guise of a couple (thanks to her clinginess at the front desk and Rafael's big stupid mouth), the closest she came to independence was when it came to the bathroom. At times he wondered if she was hoping for a repeat of what had happened the last time they had been together in a hotel room, although if that was the case, having him stand with his back to the open door was a tad counter-productive. Thankfully Elena had volunteered to take his place when and where she could, but like now the woman wasn't always around.

Breathing the ash back into his lungs with distaste and some fleeting semblance of relief, Sam answered the wind chime, "Whatever."

"Or we could just sit here..." crumbling like the Daniella of yesterday, the heiress mimicked the motion of running her fingers through her hair, the severed length reminding her of how far she had (and hadn't) come, "But where's the fun in that?"

Hesitant to take the lead, she tightened her grip on his arm and encouraged him with force to get up; admittedly curious to see where she thought this was going to go, Sam allowed her to bring them down the stairs and across half the beach. Wordlessly, as he watched her drag him along he thought back to the Dells he knew. Or, thought he knew. That girl wouldn't have been bold enough to even look at him if they'd suddenly found themselves alone, and yet there she was, lacing her arms around his and nuzzling close.

 _For warmth... Right?_

She might not claim to remember anything that had happened after cutting her hair in the bathroom, but he could tell that there was something different about the girl.

"I think this is us." Indeed they had arrived at the dock, but she wasn't budging one way or another. "What happened, after I blacked out?" Daniella hoped that she wouldn't have to ask him to give her credit and just give it to her straight, but she would if it came down to it. The thief had made it clear that he wasn't going to be her friend after all of this was said and done, but that didn't mean that they couldn't respect one another as peers. Surely she'd earned that much? "I'm not an idiot - I can tell that you're dwelling on something. And this," half expecting him to catch her wrist, she gingerly glossed her fingertips across a bruise that hadn't been there before, "it wasn't your brother, I don't think."

 _So she does care after all_. It was good to know that much.

Flesh still tender from where she kicked him, Sam closed his eyes as she ghosted over her own handiwork. He'd been anticipating this moment, but that didn't make it any less difficult to find the right words to use. Did he just brush it off and lie? He was quite accomplished at that, and she was far too naive to even think twice about whatever he said to her. _She'd believe me if I told her the sky was falling down around us..._ But why would she do something so dumb as believe a known rapscallion? Under pressure the theory might not hold up, but as things stood presently, Dells seemed to see something good when she looked at him. Maybe good was a stretch, but definitely not shitty.

 _Not like everyone else_.

Perplexed by the mere suggestion that someone could see something worthwhile in him, it secretly kind of terrified him. At first it had been amusing and even endearing, but it was only because the girl didn't know him, what kind of a guy he really was. What he tried to put off. But surely by now she should have seen something - anything - to give her pause. He hadn't even been the one to save her this last time, and yet she still clung to him as if he had. _Fear_. It had to be that she was just as scared as he was, so she was willing to grab to any one thing that had presented itself.

Just look at Rafael! She could deny it all she wanted to, but there was definitely something in her eyes when she first saw him.

Nate, Elena, and even Cassie would back him up if he convinced them it was important to him that he be the hero Daniella thought he was, so what was keeping the good doctor from being the patsy? More than capable of weaving a believable tale of how a brewing argument had broken out into an actual fight between himself and the kid, Sam was in a position to make it so that she loathed the little gizzard. If he so desired.

Remembering the look on her face when he found her curled up on top of him on the couch, honestly he couldn't say he hated the thought of Dells having only one savior in her life. Inconvenient as that might be in the grand scheme of things.

Yet that outcome was only if he chose to lie to her now, to sweep the truth under the rug where her manicured nails would never dare think to look. Although the hand locked in the crook of his elbow didn't seem to be very smooth or glitzy. In fact, from what he remembered of the stubborn little brat in her bra, her hands were always scratched up and dirty, as if she'd just come from hard labor and not a manor house. _Manor house_ , he could have shaken his head at the redundancy.

How is it that one little girl had him so mixed up?!

Moonlight lending an ethereal silvery shine to her bleached locks, Daniella still looked so much like her father that it almost hurt, and yet the woman at his side looked nothing like Rafe or Bai. For just a moment, she was person he'd never met before, someone that he could want to get to know better. Just for a moment.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Yay, fifty chapters down! *celebrates*

And honestly I would love the chance to get to read more Poe myself. As with everything else in this story, it's all what the characters themselves think or feel, and isn't necessarily my own opinion. Some of it is (I am human lol), but not everything.


	51. How Much Wood?

**\- Chapter Forty-Six -**

 **How Much Wood Would A Woodchuck Chuck If He Could Chuck Wood**

 **[Warning: explicit content]**

Putting out the stub of his cigarette on the argent sands, Sam studied the deadly serious look on the young woman's face and contemplated what would happen if he were to kiss her.

Would he be able to taste the beer on her breath? Would her lips melt into his like cherry ice cream? Would his tongue still be overwhelmed by the salt of her tears? Would her boldly familiar grip on his arm slacken and lower as he took control and pulled her closer until there was no space between them anymore? Or would she hold tight to him like she never wanted to let go? Desperate to be close, to pick back up where they had left off before, would Daniella be so overcome by the moment that she would just give herself over? Could one kiss now lead to full surrender?

More like he would be greeted by resistance. _Although it was nice to dream_...

Dells was putting on a rather convincing show of concern over his health, her eyes glittering extra bright now that her vision wasn't being obscured by diamonds. As opposed to undressing the man in her head while she examined the thief in turn, the young woman fussed over a minor bruise. Scrapes, cuts, and bruises all healed - there were always worse fates. Really the last thing she should have been worried about was what was going on below the remainders of her love taps.

Literally speaking, there were even more signs of abuse under his shirt, but so far he'd managed to hide them all from prying eyes. Nathan, Elena, Rafael, they had all probably figured that there was more damage done than to just his head, but so far the one innocent was ignorant as the day she was born. _Tsk, "innocent", that was a riot_. Done with the drama, the brunette didn't want to think about that day any more than he had to - it wasn't the worst day he'd ever had, but it was far from something he wanted to remember.

For all intents and purposes, Daniella was all on Sam - she had been ever since he'd taken the gig, yet that shouldn't have to mean that it was also his job to shield her from the truth. Contractually speaking, the thief's duty was keep the girl from boo-boos, not kiss away all her owwies and present her with a cookie just for the sake of it. Kid was apparently more mixed up than anyone had realized - kudos for hiding it so well and for so long - but by all rights there wasn't anything anyone could do about pre-existing conditions.

So then why did it feel like he was up to his elbow in dough?

"All you." Fingertips still lingering in a cage over the yellowing mark, he pressed her hand into the side of his cheek. He wasn't entirely sure why he chose to be honest with the young woman, or even why he felt the need to make her embrace what had happened. Above all, the brunette certainly wasn't anticipating the deed to reignite that spark.

Stubble prickling her palm, Daniella tried to open her mouth to speak but found that she couldn't. She wanted to, she really did, but the words just weren't happening. Swallowing hard, while she was mortified to hear the confirmation of one of her fears, the only thing she could think about was the way his fingers were woven through hers. It only would have been right to ask if he was alright, better yet to apologize, and best of all press the issue for more details to fill in the missing pieces of the story, however her mind was drawing a blank.

 _He's so close to me, and he's actually looking at me again._...

Air thicker all of a sudden, almost as if it had began to solidify, somehow there were simultaneously butterflies and a knot forming in her stomach. _Are my palms sweating_? _Because it really feels like they are_. Almost feeling like the onset of a panic attack, her nerves were frazzled, yet the fiery buzzing in her veins was different, more like how it felt when she touched herself. How it felt in the tub, when his fingers danced across the entrance and found their way inside.

Except they had been interrupted...

"I..."

 _Ba-boom, ba-boom_.

Kinetic, off-center, and just a little bit sloppy, the almost-blonde indulged her most selfish of impulses and did something she'd been dreaming about for a while. Lips crashing against his in a starved collision that could have destroyed entire planets, she mostly caught him on the lower corner of his mouth. Possibly a tiny bit buzzed and picturing something akin to the romance she renounced mere minutes ago, the end result was more similar to a head-butt than anything else. _Bra-fucking-vo._

Opening her eyes half-way through - honestly expecting him to just shove her off and call her a dumb kid out of her depth - Dells had transplanted her slack hold from the side of his face to casually resting against his shoulder. Not fully aware of when or how the shift had happened, her other hand flailed around uselessly at her side. Nothing she'd learned from Mama had been applicable at this juncture, and Jay hadn't taught her nearly enough about kissing to know what to do with the rest of her body. No doubt looking like a cross-eyed fool on strings, the heiress made the mistake of meeting Sam's eye.

Getting lost in the devouring lagoons of the brunette's midnight isles, the air was bogged down from the cloud of smoke that had only just began to dissipate, however she could still smell him. Musk and ash and something else that was entirely his own, it was enough to make anyone's head spin. Pulse racing and not the only thing to run away with her, the heiress dove head-first into the deep waters despite not knowing what she would find.

 _Lub-dub, lub-dub_.

Hands finding their way to her waist, it turned out that the adventurer was quite accommodating once he realized what was happening, acting at once to correct their course. Starting with the embrace, his left hand led the expedition to his spare shoulder; getting the hint, the heiress wrapped both her arms around his neck and drew him in as if she were allowing him passed her defenses. Figuring that she done enough just by instigating the kiss, Sam took control of the lip-lock when they first broke apart for oxygen.

Sweet as sugar plum pie and expectedly rough around the edges, there was no taste in the world that could have hid the way she fumbled her way through it. An amateur as his dance partner, Sam won the battle for dominance with ease. Not that he particularly minded the victory or the idea of having to help her practice her form.

 _Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump_.

Very aware of the sound of her own heart in her chest, playing it back she could feel herself leaning in closer from the beginning, increment by gratingly slow increment. Sizing one another up as if waiting for the other to make the first move, the adolescent could feel his searching gaze stripping away layer after layer until she was laid bare.

Body just going with the flow, her fingers threaded through the slight curls of his salted chestnut locks; mind ablaze, the longer she thought about it, the more alarming the idea of being exposed beneath the microscope was. Clamping tight, the knot in her stomach became harder and more pronounced, the beating of delicate wings wilder and considerably more erratic. And yet...

Vulnerability something she was an intimate stranger with, just the idea of having her soul read should have unnerved her enough to stop her in her tracks, and yet it was quite thrilling. Was this the sensation adrenaline junkies chased with such reckless abandon? Because if it was, she could certainly see the appeal.

Or was it only okay with her because she knew Sam? Had it been anyone else with her, Daniella wasn't sure she could have been anywhere near as comfortable, and that included Jay. Whatever all was said up until this point, the brunette had been there by her side when it mattered most, almost without fail.

 _Sam_...

Entire core alight as excitement flooded all other receptors and slowly replaced ration, whatever she was feeling beneath his gaze made her want to see this thing through to the finale.

Running her tongue wetly across his lower lip with a dangling trail of saliva that knew no origin, the dull nails of her index and middle fingers raked the top of his scalp. Jerky action eliciting a low growl of appreciation from her partner that vibrated from the back of his throat, the heiress yielded to her own curiosity. Sam was obviously the more experienced of the two, so she'd had no problem letting him lead the charge, but now she wanted a turn. _That is, if he was willing..._

Trailing his hands down from her waist to the small of her back, Sam reflected that there were at least a million different things to do or say instead of pillage her temple for the ultimate treasure. In every way that mattered, it was within his power to stop this - if not for the greater good, he could have pumped the breaks out of pure spite. Although as the young woman hadn't been in her right mind at the time, wouldn't it have been worse to hold that against her? He did, but not to the extent that he was going to deprive himself. _There'd be plenty of time to talk later._

Grip vanishing lower than what would have been permitted in polite company, as Daniella tested the waters the thief brazenly stroked the fleshy curvature with one hand and then the other. Smirking to himself when the heiress let out what was unmistakably the first moan of the night, he teasingly fondled until changing the pace. Groping zealously he picked his partner up off the ground, finding that her legs were only too eager to wrap around his waist.

Hopefully she would be just as enthusiastic about the half-raised mast growing in his trousers.

Waves slamming into the side of the boat with a fair amount of force, for all the attention the pair were paying to their surroundings, there might as well have been something malevolent lurking beneath the dark tide. Hell, for all they knew there was a seven-foot pirate babe dancing in a self-contained rainstorm of doubloons.

Stars in her eyes far more brilliant than what was dusting the tropical indigo sky, something in Daniella's chest glowed gold and all the other colors that didn't exist. Growing hotter and hotter with each passing second as their bodies got closer and closer together, her flushing cheeks were warmer than if they had been standing on top of the sun itself. Strangely he was warmer still, and for just a moment she understood why insects were drawn into the light, even knowing that it would ultimately kill them.

Missing his lips by a wide margin this time, the young woman played it off by attacking a scratch that was nigh invisible to the naked eye. Covering the skin with tentative butterfly kisses she worked her way back to the bruise, lips light as she could manage on the wound itself. A part of her felt genuinely bad about that even then, but honestly it didn't bother her enough to face the ramifications. Maybe come morning they could hash all that out (and she could beat herself up over all of tonight), but right now, all she needed was Sam.

Bearing down once more on his mouth - again spastically ramming harder than was necessary - her tongue flicked against the bottom of his teeth. Good thing her tongue wasn't pierced, because there just might have been blood... Although, from the way he was returning her energy, the heiress speculated that that wouldn't have been enough to call it a day. _I wonder what his limit would be_? Admittedly a little grossed out by the aftertaste of his cigarette, it wasn't enough of a deal-breaker for her to pull away. In fact, even in spite of the nastiness, she longed to explore every nook and cranny of her lover's mouth.

 _Lover_.

Even in her head something about that sounded strange, but much like the second-hand nicotine, might just be an acquired taste.

Twitching torturously underneath the confines of his loose-fitting jeans, the erection that had slowly been building in anticipation this entire time was tenting up through his boxers.

 _She feels it too_. Stimulating the blood flow through their clothes, the young minx meticulously moved her hips from side-to-side and began to grind against him. Twisting her core slowly at first, the more speed her pseudo belly-dance picked up, the more erratic and directionless the hip-bucking became. Learning curve inconsistent between the various different acts, he couldn't deny that he wasn't immensely turned on.

Remembering how good she had been at servicing his cock, in hindsight he couldn't figure out of he was more jealous or amused by the irony. Now that he had a better grasp on the extent of where the heiress stood, he wondered dimly in the background of his subconscious how she could have gotten with such a selfish bastard. Not that he was always exactly prince charming himself...

"Hm, Dells..."

Maybe it was just because he was the one calling the shots, but it hadn't been a problem to let the girl map her way around the uncharted territory. At first. Unrefined as the vast majority of her movements were, they were eager. However, he soon realized that it wasn't enough: he needed more of the woman, and he needed it _now_.

"Don't stop." Plea a breathy murmur, the girl seemed surprised that she had managed to get anything out.

 _Why would I?_ He wanted to ask, but instead the ex-con brought his mouth crashing down over the last source of fresh water in the rippling sands of the Sahara.

Vaguely aware that she was being carried off somewhere a little less public, it occurred to the young woman that theoretically anyone could have stumbled across them at the right (or wrong) angle. Making it as far as the office, frankly getting caught was soon the last thing on either of their minds. Road to the house cutting a hair close to where they had stopped to get really aggressive in their hockey game, all they were consumed with was one another. Every touch, every look.

By the time she caught on that her feet were once more on the sand and that her back was pressing against the final step up to the patio, the man was already on top of her. Lips ravenous, she was too distracted to even consider how uncomfortable her position was going to get, let alone complain about not making it that extra few inches to a level surface.

 _Ah, shit_!

Unless she was packing rubbers in a place that a normal person wouldn't even think to look, Sam realized that the condoms were back in their hotel room. Nathan probably had some extras stashed away where Cassie couldn't accidentally find them, however the house was so far away... Well if the heiress hadn't given him anything from the last time, it was highly improbable that he would catch anything now. As for the other end of that spectrum, the only thing she would get from him was an 'o' face (or two or three). _I should probably mention that_.

SHOULD. Frankly lucky that it had even occurred to him at all, this was some of the best dry humping he'd done since high school, and if he was careful it shouldn't have been much of a problem.

Getting a little ahead of himself when they were still fully clothed, apparently they were on the same page. "I don't care." Embarrassed and trying her damnedest to not meet his eye, it looked like she had been about to say something else - something along the lines of it being something to think about next time? - however she shook her pyrite tresses.

Well-read and encouraged by her father to learn whenever possible, Daniella had been about to say 'carpe diem', but the phrase was so beaten over the head it was probably the ancestor of the dead horse. And besides, who spoke old school Latin for foreplay?

Consequence a word that no longer meant anything, all thought was checked at the door once their activity evolved passed the PG mark. PG-13, what the fuck ever.

Beginning on the jawline and working his way down the exposed expanse, when Sam brought his lips to Daniella's throat he paused. As it stood now, the only thing that remained was a twinge of annoyance that Daniella had been in Rafael's arms the last time they were on the beach together. Well technically she was being restrained in Nathan's, but it wasn't too much of a stretch to say that the nurse had his paws all over the heiress. His heiress.

 _Not this time_ , the brunette traced as much of her collarbone as he could through the cut in her top, the deliberate motion bringing a small gasp of delight. Blushing a glorious shade of red that would have been at home in her mother's closet, the young woman twisted around to shy away. Clasping her chin in his hand to make her look him in the eye, the thief pressed his lips against hers once more.

Soft and short, he moved back to her neck and set about marking his claim. A nibble here and a peck on the far curve just behind the ear, the first nip was gentle enough to give her a taste of what to expect. No plans for the future beyond getting her pants off, the vampiric choker was getting rougher in its creation. Even if it was just for tonight, just for that moment, Dells was his and his alone.

Agreeing with that unspoken sentiment, the heiress gingerly tapped the last of bites and pressed against it, as if to make sure it would stand out. _Right, crazy was in her blood_. "Sam..." Mumble-moaning his name, with that one syllable she was both begging for him and consenting to something that she might not fully understand the repercussions to.

"I need you." Desire hanging heavy in each letter and dripping off like rain, Daniella maybe wouldn't have been a full one hundred percent sure about the decision under different circumstances, however she was sure enough. Kissing him once more - deeper and more recklessly than before - she grabbed his wrist and dragged it to rest on her leg, just above the knee.

Decent enough a guy, the historian gave her one last chance to change her mind, "Are you sure about this Dells?"

Glad for the apricot midi, the young woman hiked the coarse pleats of her skirt up and guided his hand over the tan medical wraps that would ideally keep them from a repeat of what happened last time. Maybe it would clear her head for a short time and maybe it wouldn't - all she knew was that they had come too far now to stop again. "I need this."

Thigh slick to the touch in places, he shook his head in mock disappointment as his hand vanished beneath the folds of fabric, "Didn't anyone ever tell you was rude to get started without your partner?"


	52. Sounds Like Paradise

**\- Chapter Forty-Seven -**

 **Sounds Like Paradise**

 **[Warning: explicit content]**

"Hello?" Arriving back home well after the sun had set, arms teeming with groceries (mostly the favorites of a certain stubborn goat), Elena called out to a seemingly empty house.

Bejewled pinpricks of azure and cream scattered atop the indigo sky, the musical melody of lapping waves was audible from the carport, although it was drowned slightly by the jostling of bags. Cicadas, the throaty chitter of a bank cormorant settling late into its nest, the night itself was alive with a cacophony of sounds; Elena even thought she heard the distant mewling of some kind of feline creature in heat. Good thing Vicky was probably asleep inside the house, or else she would have had a field day.

 _Paradise_. Although as she thought it, the grin on her face faltered - it wasn't really complete without her family.

Expertly juggling the spoils of a productive trip while simultaneously perking her ears for her family, apart from herself and the young man that had been generously bored enough to volunteer his services, there wasn't so much as a peep. Vicky old enough to be trusted, given the late hour Cassie should have been in bed and fast asleep. Shame that around special days she had a way of convincing her father to give her an extra fifteen minutes that somehow translated into at least another hour. Either way, that didn't account for everyone else.

Relieved that keeping the woman company as they emptied the aisles wasn't a terrible experience in and of itself, Rafael surmised that he had a good enough grasp on the blonde to guess what she was thinking as they shuffled uneventfully to the kitchen. ESP something that only existed in the movies, it wasn't exactly hard to make an educated guess. The fight the other day may have put a damper on things between his companions, however he knew it was inevitable that they would find their way to one another. _Just like a moth to a flame_.

"I wouldn't look for them too hard if I were you." Assisting with the rest out of habit, he set his burden down in front of the refrigerator. "Maybe yours, but not mine. Not if you value your vision." The young man spoke so dryly that it was sometimes a challenge to discern if he was being serious or not.

Suggestion innocent enough, she realized too late how it could have been misconstrued, "Maybe they went back to the hotel? Not like that," the blonde cringed at the idea of what those two did to pass the time without dealing with the tension, so she didn't even want to entertain the thought of what would happen once they did handle it, "ok? Some of our guests will be arriving tomorrow, so Sam might've just wanted to call it a night early."

Rafael could give her that one. "He is getting on in years. And I have yet to hear a request that that girl won't obey."

Honestly they were both a little shocked that Sam hadn't materialized out of thin air just to pout.

Scarily stealthy when he wanted to be, the man had that ability. Except no, there wasn't a single trace to be found of either Drake, nor was there hide nor hair of the girls. Leaving it be for the moment, Elena put the thought aside to tuck the ice cream for Cassie's party behind all the patties. Barbecues never went out of style, however she could tell that her husband was still disappointed in the lack of laser tag. _I know what we're doing for Nate's birthday._ Getting back to the bigger issue, they had already purchased a party-sized tub, but miraculously that had already seemed to vanish without a feasible explanation.

Once all of the cold things had been put away and Rafael had turned around to bring in the last load, the woman scanned the area for a clue as to what had happened while she was out. It wasn't that she didn't trust her husband with adhering to the rules they set for their daughter, it was just that it was a school night.

Peanut butter and bread left on the counter, peels hanging out of the trash, a single glass and a serving plate in the sink to rinse off before putting them in the washer, they had all eaten together at least. If that hadn't been the case, there would have been two regular sized plates. Spotting the forgotten chips set out by the fridge, she pieced together that there had been drinking. Of course. _Maybe Rafael is right._..

While she ran the tap and finished the job, the young man came back in and set the bag down. Fishing around inside the knotted bundle of Granny Smiths, he pulled out a sour green apple and took a bite, glancing around to glean the same clues. "Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe they're all curled up watching a movie." _You certainly have a nice tv for that._

To be fair that was a legitimate possibility, however they were both too smart to hold their breath on that count. Ideally, Cassie would be in bed so they could actually be in time for school one day this week, Nate would be saving a spot for Elena to snuggle up, and the other two would just be engrossed in whatever they were watching, hands visible. Realistically, assuming that theory was even anywhere near the money, Sam and Daniella would probably have their hands in one another's pants behind Nathan's back. Or on one another's throats...

Observing the relationship from afar, the journalist had noted that her brother-in-law looked at the heiress in two different ways more often than not.

Primarily there was the sulky Sam, who seemed to rue every minute he had to spend in the company of the girl, playing it off as distant or lost in thought whenever he suspected anyone else was watching. Granted he might have genuinely been trapped in his own head most of that time, Sam's wounded pride was evident to the casual observer. Something told Elena that he liked being viewed as the hero, the one with all the answers, and he was threatened by Rafael. Daniella seemed clueless in all that, yet she was agitating the balance all the same.

As for the other side of that coin, just that morning she had caught on that there was still a lingering attraction between the duo. Dropping Cass off at school and picking the three up from the hotel on the way back to the house, what was a relatively short drive seemed to drag on for hours. Watching through the rear view while wondering if the girl had chosen to wear a skirt on purpose, the blonde had congenially attempted to steer the conversation towards what they planned on doing for Cassie's party. Neither had much of an answer about what they'd bring, their eyes taking turns to stare at one another instead. Fingers brushing more than once and bodies subtly rotating towards the other, Rafael had suggested quite seriously that they pull over so the two could "just bang it out already", but that had only embarrassed the girl and made Sam angry. Perhaps a little _too_ angry.

Last of the items sorted into their proper places, the blonde poked her head into her daughter's room. Door wide as always, guitar a total tripping hazard, dog curled up on the child's legs, the sweetness threatened to overload the scales when her hazel eyes beheld Nate. Zonked out on the edge of her bed while reading, it wouldn't be the first time that Nathan had crashed with their daughter before doing the dishes, but it was still just as preciously cute as it had been the first time. _And to think, you were terrified of becoming a father._ Smiling to herself, she straightened the instrument so that it wouldn't get damaged (or harm anyone stumbling sleepily to his own bed later).

Now that just left the other two... Realizing that she was being followed into the back room by the juicy gnawing of a fruit, Elena hoped that wherever the pair had gotten to, they were safe and mindful of the fact that there was a child in the vicinity. Somehow that seemed unlikely.

"Told you." Making himself busy with the rest of his apple as they reached the empty living room, Rafael shrugged.

 **[G Marks The Spot/Lovebirds]**

Aching deep inside from the anticipation alone, the fireworks were already threatening to start popping off, and they had only just barely begun. Partially out of sheer admiration for the man, the heiress wanted to say that it was because he was just that good, however that might have been dishonest. It was no secret that there wasn't anything to really compare him to - Jay having only done so much for her - so it boiled down to pretty much what all she had done to herself.

Back in the real world, Daniella pleasured herself fairly often; often enough that this last month had driven her to some very unladylike behavior. _Did that make me some kind of slut_? Occurring frequently enough to prompt an aborted web search, the thought plagued the young woman - even now, she didn't have a conclusive answer. And tomorrow, once she'd had time to meticulously deconstruct every little thing that had happened, it was safe to say that she would feel ashamed, just like before. _I let Sam in way too soon_ , there was no doubt of that, _but does that make me some sort of scarlet woman_?

 _Mm, so tight_...

Intake of air sharp in his lungs, it was foretold in the cards that she would have been locked down tighter than Fort Knox, yet predicting and experiencing were two totally different things. Barely touching her outer folds before her intense trashing caused a rougher, more rapid insertion than what he initially had in store, the thief was casing the slit beneath him as if it were a safe to be cracked. _Too bad real safes didn't let you know you were on the right page_.

Wincing because she was only so lubricated at that point - or maybe because it was too much too soon - Daniella let out a little gasp as her walls clamped down on him. Index finger on the verge of being crushed from the pressure alone, the man found that the water had definitely been a plus the last time. Twirling the extremity before yanking it clean out, it wasn't anything a little spit couldn't fix.

Angle making it next to impossible to see anything beneath the peachy bunch that was her skirt, Sam felt her underwear snap back into place before his hand was even remotely visible again. That wouldn't do.

Told on more than one occasion that his Boston roots had a certain effect, the brunette leaned a little more heavily into his accent than he'd intended, commanding in no uncertain terms, "Take 'em off."

Waiting for the birds, he frenetically thrust the soaked antenna into her mouth without further ado - like a good girl, she got the memo and complied with the invasion. Muscle memory recalling all the various times her arms had been restrained behind her back, Daniella bobbed her head slowly at first, gradually picking up momentum and putting her tongue and throat to work. Fleshy pink muscle flitting over his knuckle and caressing the webbing between, all her attention was going into the motion.

Obeying usually earned encouragement, and who could say no to that?

Alternative pretty bad when she was with Jay, the young woman wasn't sure what Sam would do for punishment, so honestly it was probably better to save that for the next time. If there was even a next time. _God, I hope there's a next time,_ she prayed to whoever or whatever was listening.

Propelling herself double-time and drawing in her cheeks even more to remind him of what was in store, the heiress wasn't expecting him to almost gag her. Filling what little space was left in her mouth, her own juices dribbling down her chin, maybe it was her own fault for daydreaming about bigger and better things to come? In complete control, after coaxing her into more than one finger, the explorer rammed both digits as far back as he could, sans a warning. Eyes swimming and lungs legitimately sputtering, as if to make amends he quickly drew his hand back and replaced it with his lips. Embrace sloppier than before, he just flashed that sheepish grin as if that would make everything alright.

 _So, he liked it like that_. Confidence lacking and reserve backbone starting to get dangerously close to having to run on fumes, Daniella had to get a little... creative. Looking up through her lashes at him, she shook her head and played coy, "Not good enough." Vaguely remembering his earlier appeal, she had an idea on how to impress. "You do it."

Keen on the notion that Dells wasn't a meek little creature through and through, he moved to deal with the thin fabric.

More playful than anything else, the little tease smacked his hand, "Uh-uh. I want to see you use your teeth." That was what they said in porn, right? Mama had to get it from somewhere.

Wolfish glint in his eyes, the man knelt down to oblige the lady her request.

Teeth grazing the tender flesh of her hip and the few exposed parts of her thigh as he mouthed a trail north, Sam paused a moment to admire the sights. Drinking in the graceless brat's ravenous silhouette writhing below him on the stairs, wan eyes glazed over in lust and her mouth parted for a breathy moan, the knowledge that Sleeping Beauty was all his sent an electric thrill shooting through his veins.

But that wasn't all - the growing arousal between his own legs made it plain to the man that tonight was going to be a colossal mess. Especially if they didn't pick up the pace.

"Dells..." Voice strained, he cursed the girl for her innocence. He longed to tear into the feast that presented itself so willingly, to grind the ax, to end the siren spell and put all this behind him. Want an insufficient way to phrase it, he _needed_ to taste her. All of her, until neither one could handle it anymore.

Hovering over the narrowest portion of her pastel intimates, the man also noticed that her top was looking awfully tight across her chest. Something of an expert in the area, the brunette took the liberty of rectifying the wrong; mouth busy ripping the lacy obstruction out of the way, the thief made use of his free hand and yanked the collar down so that her bra was on full display.

 _Crap_. In the 'viewing material' she'd looked up for 'research', she saw that there was always a big emphasis put on working the breasts. Feeling a bit like a freak for breaking the apparent norm so soon in, it just wasn't something she bothered with. She'd touch them once or twice, but eh, she would much rather just get to the main event.

Now that Sam was straight ogling her chest, she began to cross her arms to block the sight. Catching herself a moment too late, the heiress was aware that that was abnormal behavior by most standards, so she distracted the threat of thought by doubling down on fumbling with his zipper.

Getting the message that anything more would have made the girl uncomfortable, he backed off and left it there. _Probably for the best, seeing what was going on under my shirt might be a bit much for her_.

Part of him wanted to give her that full experience, but that might've strayed a little too close to the realm of girlish fantasy, and this was just sex. It didn't mean anything. Sure, he was trying to be mindful of the difference between Dells and the others he'd been with recently, but there was no need to get all crazy with it.

Faster at tearing her skivvies off than she was at getting passed two metal buttons, Sam spat her panties down into the sand, not unlike a feral dog that had just done away with a pesky squirrel. Victorious and bolstered by the win, the adventurer planted another big wet one on the girl; first on the jaw, then each collar bone, the bouncy pool of flesh spilling over modest padding, the inside of each wrist, and then finally the inner thigh, just above the ace bandages. Coming full circle while sprinting towards the next finish line, he shoved the index and middle against her walls and pawed the sensitive bundle of nerves with his opposite thumb.

Bashful once more, as the man paid his princess all the attention her body could take, Sam noticed something. Bitting her lower lip to keep from crying out as the pressure welling up inside became tauter with each circle he rubbed, as they progressed passed a certain point the shy way her thighs attempted to snap shut was at odds with the heat radiating from her lips. Averting her gaze without really seeing anything, the young woman was moaning quite lewdly as he reached deeper into the well of wetness drenching Daniella's core.

Hipbones impatiently jerking up against his hand with every come-hither beckon to curl her inner walls, there was no denying that she wanted it; the heiress was merely incapable of letting him see how badly she desired him.

Well if she couldn't show it, maybe she could say it. Once more taking charge, he inserted the third and final appetizer that would come before the main course. "Say you want it." His eyes revealed more than that as they glittered in the darkness, 'say you want me', they said, 'say you want me more than anyone else'.

Obviously a man that was never going to be remembered for his warmth, he was still worlds better than Jay would be. "I..." The lady inside didn't want to say it, but the tingling that was responsible for all of this was too strong to be ignored for a moment more, "I want it."

Good enough. For now.

Growing just as desperate as her primal alpha, there was an actual physical need to have him inside, an overwhelming sense that clouded all the other six senses. Five senses. Who the fuck cared how many there were, when they still weren't further than this! Diverting her attention from the addition of the second and third digits, she nipped his neck lightly when he started a vigorous walk through the valley. _Did I say walk? I mean a fucking sprint_!

Letting lose in a way that she never had before, Daniella cried out at the stirring motion assaulting her clit, feeling herself at the edge of climax. _Just a little bit more, and_...

In essence it was still basically the same thing at this stage, only, as opposed to going it alone, having Sam there between her legs was _better_. So much better. Seasoned from years as an explorer, the toughened pads of his large hands covered more ground at once _and_ the rough ridges made for a whole different experience. Okay, so maybe he really was just that good after all...

Earthquakes didn't have names that she knew of, but if they did, Dells knew at once what this one would be called. Quivering almost violently throughout her entire body, as her metaphorical nerve died a thousand pathetic demises, the false sun buried herself against his neck.

"Sam!" Almost calling out such classics as 'Jesus', 'fuck', or 'Daddy', only one of them spilled out of her mouth when she came.

Presumably blushing, the osculatrix nuzzled close before dragging the tip of her tongue along the avian ink once she'd recovered some. Tracing each bird in turn, it was her turn to do what she did best. Slipping her hand between the material, fingers wrapping gently enough, the heiress began to pump her arm up and down, working the pre-cum smeared across the tip (and his boxer-briefs) down his length with her hand.

"Fuck," it ought to be a crime that a girl like her could make him feel that good without letting him out of his jeans, "mm, like that." Eliciting more than a swear, she smirked devilishly as his hips moved in time with her strokes.

Rising from her half-elevated position on the narrow staircase, the heiress forced Sam back. Freeing the beast from imprisonment, Daniella greeted their friend with a kiss. Blowing gently over the head, she spread what was already coating the shaft before bringing his cock to her lips. Not realizing as she did so that she had awoken fresh and very unpleasant memories for the man, the young woman only wanted to return everything he had made her feel. With interest.

 _Of course they'd end up in the sand again_. Grumbling and griping to himself, it was hard to stay mad when he saw the bubbly white spit curve down her bottom lip. It was down-right impossible when the little glob dribbled down in a single thread and crowned his pulsating head. Running his fingers through her hair to stay steady, this was the one perk that came from her having some previous experience.

Humming an old song she knew as she enveloped what she could without gagging (again), the heiress was almost disappointed that she didn't have to do much to get him ready for her. _Although there was enough_ , she mused with another pass over the skin flute, urging herself just a little bit further than before. There would be enough time to explore, to savior the moment and one another, but that time was not now.

Fingers threaded through her pale locks with enough force to outlast a tropical hurricane, the man all but forced her to swallow his length when his hips bucked up. Unapologetic for his reaction, if anything it was a compliment to her skills. Flustered and pulling back just enough so that she could breathe, the girl's expression was unreadable as she resumed her maddening pace. _If she keeps this up, we might not even have to worry about deflowering heart island_.

"Now?" Slurping greedily for a solid minute at least and letting the tip out of her mouth with a pleasant little _pop they could both feel_ , her body was starting to get impatient enough to just jump on him. "I don't think I can wait any more."

 _If your daddy could only see you now_ , a ravenous wolf grey and wild licking its chops at a cornered lamb on her lonesome, he mused to himself with a vaguely vindictive smirk.

"Dells..." Muttering her name like a prayer, unable to hold himself back any longer, that was all the warning he gave before he pulled her down on top of him. Top, bottom, he could care less just so long as he could get it in.

"Sam..." Panting his name, they both groaned out as their sexes rubbed against one another, grazing harmlessly. In the power position - or at least it seemed like the power position to her - the young woman looked at him stupidly, not quite sure who should make the next move. "I..."

Misinterpreting her hesitation, the thief cupped her cheek and whispered in as comforting a tone as he could currently manage, "Hey, we don't have to go any further than you're comfortable with. There's other things-"

Hastily shaking her head and yelling out louder than she'd intended, she accidentally rolled herself against his throbbing member, sending a jolt up both their spines, "N-no! I just..." Whimpering, it was all she could do to get the words out as he pressed against her. "I think it might be better if you do it."

Pecking her forehead in relief, Sam took care of his princess.

Lining his vertical to her diagonal so that they's connect in as painless a way as they possibly could, the brunette gingerly eased himself into the girl, displaying far more patience than he thought himself capable of. Gasping out as he entered her most private of chambers, Daniella was grateful to the man for using a little humor to keep her mind off of the pain.

Flipping her skirt up so that he had a full view of what they were working with, the historian let out a scandalized yelp, "Wait a minute, you lied to me?! Me? When were you going to tell me you weren't really a blonde! How many other victims are out there, woman?!"

Grin breaking across the grimace, she didn't say a word while her insides stretched out and acclimated to his girth. Instead Dells simply stared into the depths of his oceanic gaze; if she had been just a little drunker, the heiress could have spent the rest of the night there until she passed out. One hand keeping her steady, Sam brushed some stray hair back behind her ear, but what really got her was that he returned the eye contact. Thank the ancestors she'd only had the one bottle, or he might never have looked at her the way he was right now.

Starting to slowly rock herself once she was ready, Daniella murmured something under her breath that he was pretty sure sounded either Mandarin or Cantonese. Not the first time a partner had spoken in another language, he was more focused on how good she felt. _Jesus fuck, she was so tight_! Almost like she was going to snap him in half at any minute.

"But seriously," unwilling to pass up the opportunity, the man laughed genially through a grunt as she set the pace, "Now that you're a real woman, do you have anything to declare?"

Chuckling in return to hide the wincing, she had just the thing, "Goodbye virgin alarm."

 _Oh, my God! I just found the perfect woman, and she's been with me this whole entire time_! It almost would have been worth it to make that old 'marry me' joke, but nah. Not really Sam's speed, even as a joke.

All kidding aside, frankly the man was shocked to hear reference to a movie that had been made decades before she was born. Hell, her dad was probably only a baby when it came out, and the odds were that the man had never even heard of the film. After all these years, he still fondly remembered sneaking into the theater together with Nathan as kids. _Because nothing beats thinking about your little brother when a pretty little thing is riding you_.

Crustaceans scurried along before the tide had the chance to reshape the environment, their claws clacking and cracking as they went. Lost in the velvety emerald of the green, a beach mouse shrieked in holy terror as it found itself in the talons of a common barn owl, its plight accompanied by a chorus of cicada. Nature is all around them, but all Sam can hear is his partner moaning out for him, begging for more as their bodies slam together in a mix-tape of slapping, panting, and uncoordinated mewling.

Ecstasy in its purest form, sweat beaded their brows like diamond and pearl, the silvery sheen shining in the partial light of the moon. The smell of sex hung heavy between their bodies, and although he could tell that he might not have another five minutes left in him, Sam wasn't done just yet.

"Oh, fuck!" Frantically pounding like there was no tomorrow, it was hard to tell who had said it this time, or if it wasn't just another dead thought.

Reaching up towards her neck to pull her down for a kiss, the thief swallowed another moan. Daniella had gotten so loud that Sam had had to cover her mouth before she woke up the whole island, although that had only seemed to turn her on more, judging from the way her swaying had picked up speed. It felt so good inside his little heiress that a part of him never wanted the moment to end. Did she feel it too? She looked like she was, she sounded like she was, but even he had been fooled before.

It wasn't the same as touching herself at all, and even though the pain had largely subsided to give way to pleasure, honestly she wasn't too sure about this way being better. Sam really seemed to be into it, and it wasn't like she wouldn't be willing to try again to see if her opinion changed, however she wasn't anywhere near as satisfied as she had been previously. Forcing an overly loud moan, the young woman moved herself faster in the hopes that it would do more than just make her sore.

Kissing him for what might have been the last time, Dells closed her eyes and managed a ragged (and honest), "So... deep."

 _I don't want to let you down too._.. Brushing his lips with her thumb after they broke apart, Daniella let him flip them around so that he was on top instead, pondering if maybe changing the angle would solve her dilemma. Folding her legs around his waist and inadvertently pulling him even closer, for half a heart beat she thought she felt something. Jolting her wires, she let a little whimper escape her lips when the feeling didn't return.

Once more misreading the signals, Sam grinned a cocky little grin. He really was deep inside the young woman - deeper than he probably should have been under the circumstances - and her wrapping herself tight all around him served to only send him further. Further inside, ever closer to the climax. Feeling it coming, he threw his head back to stare straight up at the sky as if he intended to howl at the moon.

Release spurting out suddenly in a wash of creamy white, cock twitching and sputtering every last drop until her insides were filled beyond capacity, Sam looked at Daniella sheepishly as her insides clenched down to milk out what was left. So much for pulling out...


	53. The Power Of 'I'

**\- Chapter Forty-Eight -**

 **The Power Of 'I'**

So... That happened.

Mirror casting back the image of a very disgruntled young woman, a very bedraggled heiress hovered by the edge of the sink, the odd movements of her hips causing her to occasionally bump the counter top. Alone but with the assurance that there was someone (in this case multiple someones) lurking just on the other side of the door, she did what little she could to clean up. No nice way to put it, thanks to the award-winning idea of putting her underwear back on after the fact, there was a touch more than sand sticking _everywhere_ , grating and oozing in turn every time she moved so much as a muscle.

Dark brow twitching in annoyance as she scraped out another handful, she couldn't tell if it would have been better to just let it out on the beach with salt water or not. Probably not, and at least this way she had privacy...

 _From him_.

Hostile and guilty at the same time, honestly Daniella was relieved in a way, because now she didn't have to acknowledge what had happened. Or rather, what hadn't.

Lost in the memory of her fingers wound through his hair, strong hands on her hips, and their breath mingling in the moonlight, Daniella sighed softly. Feeling her cheeks lighting up, the young woman bit her lip, focusing on all the good and wondering when it might happened again. Forefinger lazing close enough to play pretend, all it would take was a little more room, and then it would be all too easy to do more than just remember the highlights of the night. Lingering on the possibility longer than she ought to have, Dells could feel that creeping lure in the deep, beckoning slowly - she knew that she shouldn't, that they had to get on the road soon, yet the call was so strong. _So strong_.

"Get a hold of yourself." Certainly not the feelings a lady should have, the heiress shook her head at the pale imitation staring back in morose defeat, reminding herself of where they were. And not a moment too soon, it would seem.

 _Tap, tap, thump_ , there was a curt but firm knock on the door.

Afraid that it was Rafael or somebody else that she was in no mood to deal with at present, Daniella released the breath she'd been holding. Quite the tease it turned out, the young man was probably sharpening his stable of jokes while they waited on her to finish. On a good day she probably couldn't handle the roast without turning at least a little pink in the cheeks, so whatever he was planning would probably be unbearable.

"You alright in there?" Benign, it was only Elena.

For a professional TV personality, she was a remarkably good woman - ardent as the sun and balmy as thick socks on a particularly cold winter morning, personable as an old friend to a couple of strays, and above all, she made it a point to check on the heiress. It didn't matter if she had to go to the restroom or if Sam had to slip away: Elena was there.

Just this once, the girl wished that she wasn't.

"Yeah," Dells ran her hand under the cold tap, "just... there's a lot of sand."

Caught traipsing back up to the house - technically, the thief was carrying the stolen treasure in an effort to minimize the collateral damage - their story was that they had been on the beach stargazing, and after sitting for too long, she had tripped trying to get up. Bumping into things and missing her step twice that day alone, the display of grace was believable without raising any red flags. The rest, however, was a blatant lie that fooled no one.

Goodness personified (although the way it sounded, Elena had an evil side too), the journalist made the most generous offer when it became apparent that the girl would need another minute. Understandably, someone had to be awake to get Cassie to school. "If you want, you can just stay here for the night. Nate won't mind, and I'm sure we can find something that'll fit you." It went unspoken, however Dells could hear the rest clear as day, 'so you can take a shower while I'm driving the others back to the hotel'.

It was sorely tempting, but for as nice as it was, the hotel had a much more preferable sleeping arrangement. Feather beds, a fully stocked mini-bar, that type of thing - seriously, the faux phantom could really use the rest. Plus, on top of a moderately hot shower, there was the guarantee that she wouldn't be disturbed by the wrong person. Whatever it may have seemed like, she wasn't interested in being the starring attraction in the peepshow.

Mere thought sending a shiver down her spine, Daniella found herself reaching for the sterling knit and yanked it closer around her body. _Not in this lifetime_!

Loathe as she was to admit it, there was also another perk that came with staying at the hotel... Irritated as she currently was with him, Dells had ended the last two nights curled up next to the brunette, so it seemed a crying shame to end that pattern now. Pausing in her task to have a heart-to-heart with her twin, the girl concede that she would miss him, and maybe for more than tonight. Possibly.

Bait rejected, Daniella called back over her shoulder, "Thanks, but I'll be right out."

Nothing else to be done, the heiress sucked it up like man, tossing one last glance at the vanity. _You got this!_

 _...Right_?

Ushering everything she had left, the young woman moved to put her underwear back on before freezing in place, one hand on the counter to support her weight and the opposite ankle raised to slip the fabric on. Thinking better of it, she reasoned with herself that her peach kilt was fairly long, and it was roughly a ten minute drive into town, so nothing should happen between here and there. Standing up straight to let the sturdy material of the midi swish back into place, the one-time back-up ballerina spun around on her heel repeatedly to make sure that it wasn't overly obvious that she was going commando. Praying that it would be fine, in her paranoia the young woman balled her soiled panties up and hid them in her sleeve (which in retrospect might have been the worst possible decision).

 _Eww. Eww. Eww_! Something moist was sticking to her wrist, and she wasn't sure if it was red or if it was white. Ripping off a wad of toilet paper from the roll and stuffing it up the wide brim to stem any possible flow, the heiress would have paid her entire inheritance in that moment if that meant nothing came of her... miscalculation.

Immediately upon exiting the bathroom all eyes fell on the belle in the spotlight, and two pairs of eyes in particular were nothing but attentive. Both men stared unabashedly in her direction, however the ghoul of a girl couldn't bring herself to look at either one of them. Sam she just wanted to punch, and Rafael... Frankly he was making her think of her father again. Daddy was probably dreading this day ever since she had been born, but if he knew the type of person she had given herself to, he would probably be rolling in his grave.

Even though she too was probably judging the girl, at least Elena was a gem and wasn't making a spectacle out of it.

Grabbing her keys and sympathetically reaching out to the young lady when they caught one another's eye, the blonde wasn't remotely fazed when Rafael made to follow her out the door first. More than used to divvying up transportation duties with Nate, Elena didn't mind acting as the designated driver; anyways, the trio weren't exactly in a place to spend what they didn't have on cab fare. "Everyone ready?"

Left alone (more or less) for the first time since returning to what so-called experts referred to as the 'real world', realization dawned with a swift stabbing sensation to the gut. _He and I_... A lump formed in her chest, followed by the beating of a thousand wings. Refusing to settle for sixth place now that she had tasted the winner's circle, like any rational adult Daniella used the opportunity to leer venomously at Sam, making it quite clear that she didn't have a single thing to say to him.

Fingers grasping at dead air when he shrugged her off with the intent to peacefully follow the example of the others, she just barely caught the hem of his shirt and yanked him back for a quick (if not irrational) word. "I'm still mad at you!"

Onyx shading his already dark eyes, he let out a glum sigh, _so much for this being different from any other one-night stand_ , "Alright. Why?"

Explanation really shouldn't have been necessary, so all the historian got for humoring her outburst was a healthy swat to the deltoid. "Really?!" Whisper-screaming her grievance in a hurried hiss, there were no less than seven separate ways to complain about the situation, although she went with the simplest, "I have sand everywhere!"

"I tried to warn you not to put them back on." Tone not helping matters, Sam spoke calmly, as if trying to explain something to his niece. Noticing how much the comment steamed the little one, he snorted when a thought occurred, "Wait, are you still wearing-?"

The Drake brothers might have had just about everyone else beat when it came to brains, but that didn't mean that she wasn't smart enough to consider all the things that could go wrong if something happened to compromise the trash. Vicky could find her way to the blood, the bag could rip open while being sorted, literally anyone could stumble upon the open bin and start to poke around for answers. Intending to dispose of the evidence herself where there were no dogs, married couples, or children to raise questions, Daniella showed him the sorry bundle of shame. Except she didn't hand her panties over so much as hurl them at the thief with the arm of a seasoned minor league pitcher.

Catching the non-lethal projectile in a humble show of braggy dexterity, the man peered at the plain pastel lingerie for a prolong period before his brain could comprehend what he was looking at. "Flattered as I am for the preview, you don't have to try so hard." Amused by her newfound daring, it was almost a shame that her royal majesty missed that he wasn't being serious in any capacity. "Not that I'm complaining."

Flustered like a skittish animal on the ropes, Dells was positively fuchsia as she risked concussing herself _and_ spraining her neck in one fell swoop, "Pr-preview?! No, this... this is your fault! I don't..." Conveniently noticing the tissue paper that had fallen at her feet, she picked it up and muttered more to assure herself than convince him, "I'm not that kind of girl."

He approached the heiress slowly then, intrigued by the notion of her being 'that girl'. Considering her defensive words and how straightforward it was to flip her 'on' switch, the man was more than wise enough to read the undertones - little lady Adler liked what he showed her, and she wanted more. Of course decorum would never allow her to actually say it, but he knew.

Promises easy to make when they were unspoken and might not ever be remembered in the light, he swore to himself that he would get her to say the words. And mean them. In the meantime... Getting it into his head that he knew exactly what her problem was - after all, the way she kept gnawing at her lip wasn't what he would consider subtle - Sam closed the space between them.

"No?" He felt her body go tense as his arm enveloped her waist only to relax again a single heartbeat later. Knees knocking as she was swept away, for all her fire it was transparent that resolve was the one thing keeping her from melting into the embrace. Her eyes were searching his face for something then, but all he could think about was the way her chest brushed against him as their proximity shrank to less than the fabric that kept them apart. The ex-con let out a light chuckle before cupping her ass and bringing her body crashing into his. "You sure you don't want to be 'that' girl?"

 _My girl_. His eyes glittered in the dim light.

Divining the half-hearted slap a mile away, the thief caught the heiress's wrist midair, breaking into a charming grin that she found to be downright irritating. Slack enough so that she could break away at any time, he continued to hold her limb on high while his free hand prodded around her lower back. Intimately acquainted with the scope of his own limits, Sam wasn't quite there yet, but there was no reason why he couldn't get Daniella ready.

"You just gotta say the word." Feeling no resistance whatsoever despite the showy display of ruffled feathers, Dells was right where she wanted to be, his lips hovering just over hers without actually making contact.

Trembling visibly from the escalating anticipation - a wet whimper caught between the tip of her tongue and vibrating off the back of her throat - it was obvious what he was doing, and she wanted no part of it. Nope, not one single thing! Not the very welcome grip dipping dangerously low, not the grainy scratch of stubble tickling her chin where their skin met, not the raw and rampant fantasies of what he could probably do to her right then and there... No, she clearly didn't want any of that...

Blush a deeper, more velvety shade of scarlet bloom than had ever been recorded in the whole of history, Dells ripped herself away from his warmth before anything might happen. _They're probably waiting for us_... We should get out there... before I... before we...

Head swimming from the overwhelming scent of sex and cigarettes, there was another layer just below the surface, a rich musk that she secretly hoped would be etched into memory. Shaking her head of the heady smell, the heiress tried to take a step back. Her hope was that even a little distance might clear things up, however the brunette still had his arms around her waist, acting as an anchor to the earth. Questioning if they really had to leave, before she realized what had happened his lips were briefly pressed against hers, and then the man was on his way out.

 _Dirty trick_!

Torn between if she approved of the tactic or not, Daniella grabbed him once more, only as opposed to vent about exaggerated slights, this time the heiress wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered into his ear. Mouth lingering a moment longer than it had needed to, the young woman was gone soon enough, sashaying off to get in the car. She still had a few things to learn, but dammit if he wasn't enjoying the journey.

"Seriously?" Bleary-eyed and just barely able to discern the form of his older brother, Nathan caught the tail-end of the scene on the way to bed. Tired as he was after a long day, his still managed to shake his head, "Time and place, Sam."

Miming affront effortlessly, the brunette childishly pointed at the door, "She started it."

Too tired for any of it, Nate just rolled his eyes and shambled the rest of the way down the hall to his room.

Outside once more, Sam took a deep breath and savored the damp wind riding in from the coast, eyes passing over the beach before he made himself scarce. Everyone else already seated and waiting on him, his sister-in-law jerked her head back, gesturing for him to let the lead out. Rafael, apparently in mid-speech, closed his mouth and proceeded to buckle up when the final party membered joined. Dells was seated behind Elena so that the brunette had room to get in, her forehead pressing against the window as if the glass might cool her down. Wooden and unresponsive, for a moment he honestly thought that Sleeping Beauty might have been living up to her name, however she finally acknowledged his presence after he was situated.

Remembering at the last moment that she was supposed to be mad at Sam, Daniella threw her hand out to stop him from getting too close. "Still furious."

Never not interested in getting under Sam's skin, the young man turned as far back around in his seat as the safety strap would allow, tittering, "Aw, is the pretty princesa mad that her geriatric knight dropped his lance in battle?"

"Hey!" Sam obviously took offense to the jab, but he left no sign that he cared in the slightest if everyone knew the truth or not, "I'll have you know that the young lady got her money's worth!"

Unable to stifle her amusement (and the distant recollection of something about a ten dollar tour), it was all Elena could do to hold herself back, "Wow. You know, Nate and I had a working theory, but I never suspected you would confirm it like it was nothing. I have to ask, what's your going rate?"

Stung that the woman would side with the little runt (even though he himself would have probably sided with the funnier side, regardless of social ties), the brunette just looked at the blonde blank as a slate. "And with that you've just been crossed off my Christmas list." With heavy black lines.

About to blurt the truth out to defend Sam, Daniella caught herself before the gun could go off and she'd find herself short a toe or two, "No! He..." Crossing her arms and actively rotating towards the window, she kept up her act and scowled, "He knows what he did."

"You too." The chances they would still even be in contact by that time was slim, but it never hurt to let the heiress know where she stood in terms of expecting anything for the holidays.

"Oh-ho," a sleek alley cat that ate the engorged pet canary, he grinned at the older man, "so you _did_ do something!"

 _Good going, Dells_. "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell." Playing up the charm and falsifying innocence as easily as breathing, the brunette acted as if touching his hand to his heart would solidify the display.

That was the point Elena focused more on the twisting of the road than the conversation, although her natural curiosity wouldn't allow the fact that they were talking about her in-law to deafen her entirely. Worst case scenario, things were said that Nate never needed to hear repeated. Best case... Truthfully, she had no clue what the ideal outcome would be. As family she wanted Sam to be happy, but for as long as she had known him, she still wasn't sure what that would mean in the big picture. At times, she questioned if he even knew.

Clearly doubting what he was being sold, Rafael shook his head and laid it straight out there, "I don't know which part I'm more skeptical of - the bit where you're a gentleman, or the claim that it was just a kiss. I wasn't born yesterday, I can tell that you both came up to the car more than a little bit out of breath."

"It's an expression-"

Sam started to explain, but was cut off by the stooge in the front seat, "Yeah, yeah. Either way," he winked at the girl, just to get under the increasingly thin skin of his traveling companions, "I could do more than kiss you."

Blood boiling enough to make a fist (and get the girl to worriedly drop her guise without a second thought to put a comforting hand over his), he grit his teeth, "And I can do more than finish Legion's work, you little punk."

"Logan." Closer to neutral than anything else now, Dells corrected Sam under her breath, hypothesizing that it was an almost automatic response born from gratitude. They weren't going to become best friends any time soon, but he had been there for her, so it was the least she could do.

"Okay boys, that's enough." Elena was one to let the guys have their fun, but not when it came at someone else's expense. Catching the heiress change her entire demeanor in the rear view, the woman thought that a sidebar might be in order once they arrived at the hotel. The girl was upset by what was being said, clearly, but she had the hunch that there was more to it than that.

Backing off for the time being, Rafael had only one last thing to add, "You know where to find me." Maybe blowing a kiss was a bit much in hindsight, but in the moment it felt like the right thing to do.

 **[At The Hotel]**

Cordially shaking Elena by the forearm and bidding the others a good night with a final advisory that they shared a relatively thin wall, Rafael exited the shuttle with a prolonged yawn. Shopping, packing, unloading, and sorting had taken a good deal out of him, so even though there was an open invitation to join in tomorrow's itinerary, there was no obligation to show up. This was all Drake's deal, but that wasn't to say that he wasn't enjoying himself - provided his neighbors weren't a hindrance to his beauty sleep, the young man didn't mind tagging along.

"Buenas noches." With an unseeing wave, he was gone.

Ancient metal hinges creaking in want of fresh oil as the rear door was opened, Sam made to follow suit after a last half-hug to his little sister up in the front. "Eleven-thirty, right?"

Elena nodded without having to think about it, "Provided Chloe's flight is on time." All reports indicated that the weather would be sunny that whole weekend, but damned if any of the airlines weren't going to make the experience as miserable as they possibly could. "Mary-Elizabeth and the boys should be in around noon."

Figures it would be the dreaded Ms. Ledford's turn to have the boys - a trait he shared with their father, Sam would much rather have it be Layla in town for the party, but it was what it was. "Gotcha. Any idea if Cutter will manage to show?" The thief only got a shrug in reply. "Well that sucks. Ledford's on him, so if we have to suffer, he should too."

There were a lot of names being thrown around that the heiress didn't know, however even if she had been more acquainted with the friends of the Drakes, they wouldn't have meant anything to her anyways. Not when her head was a million miles away. Wearing the grimace she had on when Rafael had departed, now that the two of them were back at the hotel Daniella was considerably more mixed up than she had been during the drive over.

Despite her best efforts at acting like she wanted nothing to do with him, at some lost point during the ride the thief had bridged the space between their physical beings in silence. Going from the heiress restraining him from unnecessary violence to the brunette working a magic of his own, it began on his own terms after he tore away to run his fingers through his hair. He would have pulled out a smoke, except he had been amply warned against doing any such thing in the past.

Hazel-blue pietersite shifting through the bumpy gloom and lingering in place until confirming that she was paying attention, Sam lightly nudged the side of her hand. Edging ever closer, his fingers had tap danced across the bench to rest for a short while. It was an amicable beginning, a start that could've been an entertaining show if there had only been music.

Secret from anybody that wasn't them, a gentle touch morphed into a bawdy knuckle graze. Just like what had happened back at his brother's place, before she knew what was happening, he was guiding her wrist away from home.

Instinct leading her to believe that the adventurer was going to mutely request an exchange program of sorts, instead the man intertwined their fingers. Modest as the motion was, it practically sent her heart thundering up where it didn't belong to get stuck in her throat.

Focused on keeping her eyes on the darkened nocturnal scenery blipping by as to not rouse further suspicion, the young woman's fears were immediately put at ease when she felt their joined metacarpus grazing the outside of her thigh. Holding hands was just a step above her pay grade, but a sex thing she could handle. Because that was totally normal.

 _Although_ , as the subtle unity began to rub up against the crude folds of her apricot petticoat, Daniella realized that there was another emotion bubbling to the surface: disappointment. Mind shutting down as it tried to comprehend why she would be sad that the gesture wasn't what she thought, her body had been all too willing to allow the petting.

Intimacy was the deadliest of the diseases, the more fatal of mankind's many evils, and a word that held no place in the world of the lonesome and the wealthy. There was an artful mimicry the more vicious mastered, a silent war that blurred the lines of ethics and the definition of what was just a game, but the Adlers were above such. Even amongst the other elite, they played by their own rules, and with however many players they willed - for Daniella, it was a game of no one, because she had been failed so many times prior.

Emotional intimacy was out of the question for the likes of the heiress, even though at its core it was the one thing she longed for more than anything else. Trust, laughter, something that wasn't quite love as it was usually depicted, the idea that someone else would willingly just want to spend time with her because it was what they wanted... How could that have been anything other than a dream?

But sex? That had seemed simple enough to wrap her head around. True it still boiled down to one party just using the other, but at least that way it was a far more honest exchange, unlike day-to-day relations.

 _Were you the same as me? Did you also feel the crushing weight of expectation and the same crippling isolation when you refused to join the game? Is that how you ended up with Mama, because she was always honest with you_? _Was there a part of you that truly cared about her, even just a bit? Or had it all been an arrangement centered around intercourse_?

 _And what about Sam_?

Now that the pair were mere feet away from sanctuary, the needy pawing could resume - hell, it could even end up evolving from this light toying to the real deal. Worked up since they left the beach side residence, the young woman didn't mind the possibilities so much in theory, however she was dwelling on what would happen if she couldn't see the fireworks this time.

Ignoring that one brief millisecond in favor of what she could understand, if playing her Stradivarius hadn't earned a standing ovation, the thought might have occurred that there might not have been such a thing as a climax after all. Except he had gotten the call for an encore performance, and even if he hadn't gotten even that much out of her, the college-age débutante knew from personal experience that there was better than the note they'd ended on.

Thinking up possible fixes to what in fairness could have been a one-time fluke, Dells pondered upon letting herself get truly comfortable with Sam. Perhaps if they took it slower and explored together, shedding away everything and even sharing scars...

Dandy as that read on a page in some romance novel, that would probably only lead to the young lass getting too close to being the girl that hoped for things like having her hand held. As she said to the younger Mr. Drake, while that worked for some types of folks, that wasn't her shtick - love was for saps. But what was the alternative? It was either that or be a little tramp, and that fate was even more frightfully daunting!

 _Isn't there any grey?_!

"Don't let the door hit you on the way in." Gruff Boston accent bringing her back to the present, Sam waved Rafael away before removing himself from the SUV, "And you." He pivoted around to help Dells, "You still mad at me?"

 _Yes. No? I have no clue anymore_... Shying away to hide her face in the shadows lest she betray even one of the thoughts struggling for escape, the girl ignored the hand he had offered and slid down the bench-like seating to hang there on the edge. Perfectly capable of getting out of the car herself, there was a part that wouldn't have minded staying there all night if it meant she didn't have to face anyone for the rest of the week. Once they were inside, there wouldn't be any more hiding.

For everything that was racing through her head in that moment, the heiress wished that she could just bury her head in his chest and not have to think about anything. _How can you still be my refuge when you're the one tormenting me_?

An angel sent from above, Elena answered her prayer. "Can I borrow her for a minute?"

Halfway through a nod, it took the young woman a second to register that Elena was requesting an audience with her, not Sam.

Obviously faster on the uptake, the brunette cast his little sister a questioning eyebrow quirk, searching her face for a hint of what she would want with the heiress now. Placing his money on the old 'birds and bees' talk, he relented with a small dip of the head and just ambled ahead. The girl would find him when they were done, and in the meantime this gave him time to prepare.

Until that point it hadn't been in the other woman's character to be nasty, but due to life, the younger couldn't help but to wonder if the blonde wasn't going to drop the act and make with the threats. Given everything that had happened on her property in the last hour or so alone, flipping the script wouldn't have been completely unreasonable.

So not what she was expecting, Mrs. Drake (Fisher? The business was called D & F, but honestly Daniella was confused as to which was accurate when she was more than happy to go by her first name) advanced for a more intimate conversation. "Are you okay?"

Every muscle demanded her to bolt when the blonde leaned across the divide and got close enough to count the lighter flecks in her irises, but the heiress stayed rooted firmly in place. It would have been simple enough to just assume that the question was a mere formality, but it made no sense to go out of your way for forced pleasantries. As much as experience wanted to doubt this olive branch, it seemed sincere. Then again, so had some of the others...

Hopelessly watching as her last remaining pillar slipped further and further away, Dells crossed her arms defensively over her ribs, "Fine. Why?" Normal kids her age would have asked to be sassy little assholes, but she genuinely failed to understand why the blonde would care when they would never have to see one another ever again after a few more days.

Gathering beforehand that the scrappy survivor wasn't going to be a cake walk to correspond to, she remained undeterred. "I know its probably not my place as a stranger, but I just wanted to make sure you'll be alright." Sure as she was about checking in on the girl, what Elena wasn't positive about was how to go about it. So far she had monitored the situation from afar, but now that things had escalated the way they had, she couldn't be passive anymore. "So I'm going to ask again: Are you alright?"

"Oh." It could have been a cinch to lie and say that everything was coming up roses, or to even just get up and walk away from the conversation, yet the young woman found herself staying. Even more baffling was that she gave an authentic answer. Well, authentic enough. "I'm fine, really."

A lousy liar, she wasn't convinced and neither was Elena.

No matter who it was with this was a talk that no one ever wanted to have, although for what it was worth, Dells could tell that there was genuine concern in the journalist's eyes. It almost made her willing to try, especially if it meant sorting out even one of the problems that she was being bombarded with. Most of which were of her own making, but at least this was keeping her mind off the pitch-black horror.

Pros so far outweighing the cons, the fact that Elena was Sam's family was never far from mind, nor was the fact that they were still no better than strangers. Although by that count, so was the thief...

Sensing the hesitation of a source that didn't want to talk, the reporter took a step back and tried again, "We don't have to get into this whole thing if you aren't comfortable with it. I just want to make sure you don't drown out there - it's a lot, opening up to someone. Even someone you trust."

 _Trust_.

Daniella trusted her daddy to come back home to her like he said he would, but he died. Sick as it was looking back, she trusted her mom, and she lied. She trusted Keaton the way a child trusts a constant presence, and the family employee had vanished without a trace. She trusted Shen and to some degree Jun, and they had both fallen victim to her mother (which admittedly almost exonerated them). She trusted Carissa once, and look what had happened there. She tried to trust Tennessee out of pity and guilt, but that had only welcomed high school drama. To be truthful, she couldn't say that she exactly trusted Jay, however for the longest time he had been the most stable thing in her life.

For better or worse, she _did_ trust Sam. So maybe she could trust his family too...?

Peeking uncertainly over the other woman's shoulder towards the room, the heiress took a wild leap of faith that screamed bloody murder out against everything that she had ever known. It could have been that there was just something about the blonde that pulled you in, or maybe she was just sick of pushing people away and assuming the worst every single day. Whatever it was, Dells saw something that made her think that just this once everything would work out against all the odds. Most likely her fried last remaining braincell was swamped and needed some kind of output before it self-destructed.

"Trust is a lot to ask..." Daniella met the woman half-way and closed the door so they could converse in private.

Much as the girl hesitated, for a moment Elena thought the heiress was going to leave her hanging, but that ended up not being the case. She was glad. "I realize that it might be a little strange talking to me, but I want you to know that I'm always here as a totally objective third party if you ever need someone to talk to. You don't have to go through this alone - so if you don't want to talk to me, Chloe should be here soon."

Miss Frazer? There was a certain familiarity there, yet however much she liked Chloe, something told the heiress that the woman might not be the best choice to talk to about this. While there was the remote chance that she came with an off switch and might be able to be serious when the time called for it, the beauty had not left the impression she was capable of the feat without cracking one too many jokes beforehand. Daniella's confidence was fragile enough without some kind of ribbing about how both brothers were involved with blondes now.

No, there was too much on her mind, and if she was going to open up, she'd rather it be with someone that would take this seriously.

Abandonment issues very real, Dells looked at the reporter cautiously, as if the other woman had just admitted to spontaneously vomiting up acid without warning. "Just between us?"

Holding up her hand in the universal gesture of scout's honor, she nodded earnestly, "Just between us."

Letting go was never easy, yet Dells confessed with the understanding that no of this would ever be repeated after tonight, "I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm overwhelmed, and I'm just... I'm at a loss."

Keeping up the cover story as a means of cleaning up any unsavory imagery, Elena wasn't entirely sure how to put it delicately, although for both their sakes she wanted to try. This was a safe, judgment-free space, but that didn't mean that she wanted to picture her in-law in that light. "Well for starters, have you ever 'stargazed' before? With anyone?"

"Not exactly." There wasn't a need to tell anyone else about Jay, was there? Daniella certainly didn't think so.

Elena repeated the two words in her head, interested to dig into what 'not exactly' all entailed, however that was one story she'd have to bury, as it was none of her business. All the same, due to being a mother with a daughter of her own, she couldn't help but to worry about the girl anew. Add in everything that had been properly sourced (or heavily suspected) about the kid, and it was hard not to. _How can her mother live with herself_?!

Talk about to get very uncomfortable for the adult now, the pendulum swung the other other way. "Were you two being safe?"

Ha, the blonde almost laughed at the use of the word 'safe' being used in the same sentence as one of the Drake brothers, especially when said sibling was Sam. Seriously, out of the almost countless number of people they knew, why did it have to be Nathan's older brother? To be fair, one of her first priorities when the time came with Cassie would be to ask the same question. The other two would be holding a lovely service for a very dead beau and bribing the prison to bail out an even more incarcerated Nate.

"Um..." Cheeks flushing and floor suddenly very interesting, the heiress didn't want to talk about that when in theory she should have known better.

Sam was usually pretty good about that kind of thing from what Sully and Nate said, but it didn't sounded like there had exactly been any planning involved. The woman hoped for Sam's sake that they had something back at the hotel for situations like this. Making a mental note to make a very discreet stop at the pharmacy tomorrow just in case they didn't, Elena was half-tempted to give her brother-in-law another good talking to. He'd behaved himself around her for a long time after Libertalia, but this wasn't about her, it was about that lost little girl that stumbled ass-backwards into this life.

Brushing at her skirt as if it were still covered in sand (although there a good chance it really was), Daniella tried to think of a way to salvage the situation but couldn't come up with anything better than a meek promise, "I'll do better next time. If there's a next time."

A next time was almost guaranteed, so even though the prospect didn't leave her jumping for joy, the former correspondent could only rely on them to do right by themselves. The heiress may have scratched the greener side of the fence, but the truth was that they were both consenting adults. What they did or didn't do was completely on them. "I think you mean when."

Not sure the woman would be singing that same tune if she knew how badly she had messed up, the awkwardness was about to near critical peak. "I..." About to say that she wished, Dells caught herself, "I think I made a mistake."

Doubtful that the girl meant in selecting her partner, Elena softened as the real problem prepared to present itself, "What happened?"

"Is it normal to..." Blush creeping back with a vengeance, Daniella glanced away from the sun and traced her fingers along the door handle, "Not see stars your first time?"

Taken aback when reviewing the facts, she understood what the girl was saying, however Sam seemed a little too pleased with himself to be privy to the truth. He hadn't exactly just shouted that they'd finished having sex when everyone met up, but he was practically grinning from ear-to-ear. "I can only speak from experience, but honestly it took me a while to figure that all out. My first boyfriend never found that special place-"

She hadn't intended to interrupt, but Daniella was honestly tickled pink to hear that there was still a chance. "Will I know it, when I find it?"

"You'll know it." Elena affirmed.

Embarrassing as it had been to ask that much, there was still more to it, a nagging feeling that wouldn't let sleeping dogs lie, "Even if you feel it one way... but not another?" Dells motioned with her hands to illustrate her point when she saw the confused tilt to the other woman's head.

Picking her words with care, Elena spoke slowly, "It might take time to get into the groove, but when you really get to learn your body, with the right partner and the right care it should be less of a problem."

"Do you think I should tell Sam? That I didn't...?"

That was tricky.

Records indicated that one of the fixes to this kind of problem was communicating with your partner, and personally the journalist believed in full disclosure, so it should have been an automatic yes. Marriage a different race horse than just a casual fling, no matter what the type of relationship, she knew from personal experience that it was easier said than done to come clean. Considering all angles before opening her mouth, she also knew Sam. Obviously he was a big boy and could take that conversation, although as he was prone to sulking, there was no insurance that it would be a breeze to get through.

"I think..." studying the girl and how seriously she was taking this, the blonde approved of the idea for the first time, "you should always establish an open line of communication with anyone you engage with. Any sort of relationship. Business, or personal, it's just healthy. The key is to find the way to go about it. Sam... he's not always easy, but he's one of the good ones."

Daniella knew that much already. And she realized that he deserved to just hear the truth, hard as it was going to be. "He is."

Grateful to the woman for the guidance (more deeply than a million words could ever express), Dells moved to hug the woman, although she broke at the last moment and ended up lingering awkwardly in midair. Protective of her family, the woman would have questioned the gamble more if she hadn't had this talk with the young woman. It might have been too early to tell, but this one might do some good for the ex-con. Going all in, Elena completed the embrace, arms nothing but warm, tender, and supportive.

"No matter what happens, take care." _Of yourself, of Sam_.

Smiling at the other woman, Daniella nodded into the hug, thinking to herself, _Cassie is really lucky to have you as a mom_.


	54. Sweet Dreams, Dear One

**\- Chapter Forty-Nine -**

 **Sweet Dreams, Dear One**

Cigarette still burning in the crystalline ashtray on the honey oak nightstand, only one of the shaded lamps had been left on to help set the mood (and probably so that she could find her way to the bed without breaking something). Path angled a mere hair for modesty, the young woman probably could have found her way in the dark; game of Marco Polo a tempting idea in another life, it was kind of great of him to think ahead.

Room the baby bear to her Goldilocks, there was only just enough space to host a pair of beds, two small dressers, a television, and a pretty decent bathroom. As such, it hadn't taken long for the swirling smoke to fill the air and cast a choking coal cloud that was scarcely visible in the dim light.

Biting the inside of her lip as she imagined all the ways he might have entertained himself while he waited, the heiress had stripped off her sweater in the hall. Checking first that the path was empty so that no one else was there to see the battle scars, the cozy pearl material that had been sloppily folded in her arms came completely undone when it was discarded on the floor. She hadn't been so bold as to do more in a public space, but considering they both knew that she wasn't wearing any underwear...

"I'm back." Wiser than she had been the day before and far more tired from the talk with Elena than anticipated, Daniella wasn't entirely sure if she was up for anything, but she wasn't against it either. "Sam...?"

Grown old from waiting, the grizzled brunette was propped up against the dimpled headboard in a way that suggested he had actually slid down a fair ways. Sound asleep, he probably hadn't even heard her coming in. _Yeah, I don't blame you_. Noting that he had done away with his shoes and socks already, the heiress covered him up with the solid sea-blue blanket so he didn't get too cold in the middle of the night. Cautious of waking him up, she had also did what she could to yank him down and into a more comfortable position so that he didn't royally screw up his neck.

Unzipping her skirt so that it puddled at her feet, she thought about the comfy cotton pants waiting in the dresser, but the sticky heat was too much for so much fabric, so then she considered at least getting a new pair of underwear. She considered it. Fingering the hem of her top tentatively, instead the young woman unhooked the double latch of her padding and tossed the bra to the floor. It felt strange being so naked, but for the part of her brain that wasn't too beat to care, it made no sense to dirty more clothes when she was in desperate need of a shower still.

Yeah, that was why she was getting so comfortable, not because she was experimenting with her theory about closeness...

Walking over to his side of the bed to stamp out the smoldering line of ash, Daniella noticed an assortment of at least three different kinds of condoms laid out, one of which she recognized and knew to be watermelon flavored. Two empty glasses waited besides a bottle of cheap scotch, sweat pooling around the bottom. _Oh, what could have been_.

Menial tasks over and done with, Dells pulled back the covers just enough to curl up next to the thief. Granted it would have been really nice to finish the day on an even better note, but by that point she was just too sleepy to muster the energy required, so the heiress settled with snuggling up close to Sam. She'd wanted to have that talk Elena encouraged, but they could do that later.

Yawning, Daniella closed her eyes and contemplated that maybe going to bed half-naked and sleeping without a pillow to divide their bodies was too ambitious to tackle in a single night... Oh well, maybe she would wake up first, and he would be none the wiser.

Drifting off, it wasn't long before the two of them were asleep like nothing had happened, like they were fine, like there weren't killers after them, like they hadn't changed a single damn thing in their dynamic.

 **[A Bad Dream From Years Ago]**

On the eighth anniversary of Rafe's death, Bai stood beneath a larger-than-life and immensely flattering portrait of the deceased. Hair tousled and glasses back on the nightstand with half a bottle of Ambien and a tumbler of tequila, the woman had risen from a nightmare and had spent the better part of the AM hours just staring up at her lost love. Ordinarily she was what bad dreams had, and the gallery was the last place she would spend her spare time, but today was special.

Rather, today should not have existed, and in a better world, it didn't.

Daniella must have agreed, because the girl was silently watching her father as the sun peered nosily through the lofty windows and bathed the room in a rosy gold hue. Her first instinct when seeing the girl was to scream at her to get out, that she couldn't possibly understand what it was like to live without Rafe, but the truth was that she was the only other person in the whole world that did get it.

Instead of punish the girl further, she wrapped her arm around her daughter and they mourned together. Jun would likely be expecting their presence for breakfast, and the school might ask after her baby if no one had remembered to call them at any point in the week leading up to today, but none of that mattered. Not today.

Unable to forgive herself for how things had ended between the two of them, knowing what she knew now, the businesswoman wished she could do it all again so that she wouldn't make the same mistake. Fuck the company, he could keep it and their daughter if it meant that she could have just one more day in his arms. Nothing in this life had made up for losing Rafe, nothing could even come close. What they had had been special, had been worth the fight, and it was her deepest regret that she hadn't fought harder to keep him.

On the verge of tears, Bai had looked down at the only thing that remained of their love, and she seriously contemplated snapping the girl's pretty little neck and downing the rest of her sleeping pills. Was it really worth keeping their child when he wasn't there? The question came every year, and every year the woman was less convinced that keeping an imperfect clone was the right answer. The bespectacled beauty didn't hate the girl, but Daniella wasn't her father - she was just a painful reminder.

Rafe had grown bored when the baby came, and that had been one of her biggest fears. The billionaire made it no secret that he wasn't thrilled about the accident, yet for just a moment, he'd entertained the idea of playing house. Honestly Bai had no clue what might have swayed him to even toy with the notion, but for those few minutes, she was happy, because they were together, and what had happened in Vegas hadn't been just words.

 _He really had loved her_.

Kissing her daughter's head, the woman was angry with herself for even entertaining the idea. Something else they had in common, they would irrevocably hate anyone that would dare to harm their little girl, even one another. Daniella was their greatest treasure, even if he had never realized it.

Breakfast just the distraction she needed from her thoughts, the duo made their way to the dinning room to be served whatever was on the menu that day. Ignorant of what had almost happened in the gallery, of what might be waiting for her in her future, Daniella held her mother's hand the entire way. Across an empty expanse of marble, jewels, masterpieces, and a number of hollow artifacts that could have made anyone fabulously wealthy if they'd managed to get their paws on only one, the girl hadn't let go until they found the current husband waiting for them. Even then it had been hesitant, as if she might lose her mother too.

Paper up like it was every morning, he scanned the international pages presented on his tablet and only looked up at the two when reaching for his morning coffee. Duty first, he gazed at his wife and muttered something in Cantonese about her looking tired. Examining the teen more closely, Jun's eyes lingered on the girl longer than anyone would have liked, but nothing was said or done. It never was.

Praying for the old bastard's blind spot, Daniella had seated herself at the middle of the table, below an arrangement of overflowing blue blooms in a vase with slices of fresh blood oranges. Edible art, although who would be eating them later was a mystery to the head of the house. Frankly she didn't care. Nor was she being extra careful about how she slumped down in her own chair, all traces of elegance lost for the next twenty or so hours. For Rafe, she would just be herself.

Neither of her fake husbands could ever hope to hold a candle to the man that had originally owned the house, however the one thing she could give the first was that he had been decent at the least. Showing up on the continent hours before the wake, Shen had remained by her side the whole day, bracing her every time she'd had to speak and holding her up so that she hadn't fallen to her knees from the pain.

That had been the first and only time anyone that mattered had seen her really cry.

Respecting the grief of a widow, he had played the part of a friend, remaining close in the following days. Of course Baba had been impatient to see the bargain upheld, so the wedding hadn't been long after the grieving period ended. Shen had offered to wait a little longer if she needed, but after half a year, Bai knew that there was no point in procrastinating - Rafe was gone, and nothing was going to bring him back.

In terms of how the little bitty heiress had seen the transition, it hadn't exactly been like her parents were close in the traditional sense - in fact the argument could be made that they had acted more like a divorced couple passing the offspring back and forth than anything. Rafe had Nadine, Sam, Shoreline, and Avery. Bai had... well, she was too busy working to dwell on the little details.

Thankfully for all parties involved, it hadn't occurred to the girl to treat her new step-father like enemy number one. Shen had always been nice to her, was one of the few to even remember that she was even alive during that period, and he seemed to care about her mother in some capacity. In her head obviously there wasn't a man alive that could ever replace her Daddy, but he was a good friend.

Jun? Not so much.


	55. Bells Of Hell

**\- Chapter Fifty -**

 **Bells Of Hell**

Anything but sweet, one dreamt of a faceless man that crawled spider-like out of a gilded portrait, the other of a lost infant crying helplessly amidst a mountain of pirate gold. Doubloons and jeweled crowns rolled off the haphazard piles, clinking and clacking forever; hazy apparition tinted by fringes of black light and doleful fury, its every movement was shrill and mechanical.

Bare feet of the child stuck in the decayed velvet carpet that had aged down into a tar-like substance to hold her in place, the old man had been snared in the moss-covered rope work netting the ground like a minefield. Neither could move, and the end was imminent. _Danger. Danger. Danger_.

Unfortunately for the lost dreamers, the ghosts of the past refused to be forgotten so easily - running wasn't a viable option, yet escape was the only answer. _Get out! I need to get out of this place_!

The truth needed to come out, one way or another.

Waking unceremoniously with a jolt that disturbed his partner as well, Sam had to take a minute to remember where he was and why; the dumb part was that he didn't even have a hangover this time. Shutting his eyes against the feeble rays of a morning in the spring of its life, the man took a deep breath to steady himself and counted to ten before opening them again.

Pulse calming, the historian cast a mild glance around at the familiar setting of a place he knew fairly well. Nutmeg walls, powder blue bedding, and the same tired curtains that were always used. Back facing the warm bottle that had been left out on the nightstand, it trickled back that he was in town for his niece's birthday, that today the team would begin to assemble for the weekend.

Feminine and soft, a warm body twisted against the mattress and wormed closer beneath the covers, no more ready to face the day than he was. Breathing Morse code into his shirt in the struggle to fall back asleep, dainty fingers hitched themselves to the thread as if clutching for some semblance of safety.

Irony not lost on him, the ex-con could have laughed - anyone that came to him for protection must have been royally screwed - but that would have been too much effort. Instead, the thief thoughtfully draped his arm across her silhouette and rubbed small, comforting circles over her shoulder blades with his thumb. It wasn't unlike what he had done for Nathan when they were kids.

Dells... Name almost escaping into the balmy atmosphere, he peered inquisitively at the curled-up ball gluing itself to his person, wondering if this was just another nightmare.

Yesterday had started much the same way, with the major difference being the feathery fortification lodged uncomfortably underneath his spleen. It had been her bright idea to erect the divide for modesty (of course), but judging from what he wasn't feeling wedged partway beneath his spine today, the young woman had learned her lesson. Or had there been another reason behind the disappearance of the wall?

Mouth muffled against his breast, the brunette thought he heard her mutter an apology to her daddy, and honestly it wouldn't have surprised him in the slightest. Dells seemed to be plagued by nothing but bad dreams, however as opposed to talking about it, the pair had just laid there for a time, exactly like they were doing right now. Identical to her mother in this one aspect, the world revolved around that asshole, so it wasn't hard to guess what her problem was.

Still, the last thing Sam wanted to think about first thing in the morning was Rafe.

Comfortable just being, the ex-con savored the sensation of a dewy sunrise baking the top of the blue blankets, even going so far as to allow that waking up to the extra body heat wasn't an unpleasant experience. By no means was that a new revelation - after going for thirteen straight years without, it was just nice to acknowledge the little things. Such as the clean scent of the fresh lien sheets or the lemony disinfectant that the staff used.

Heavenly as the moment was, even though Sam could certainly see the appeal, he just wasn't the type that could sit still for long. So his mind began to wonder. While that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, when the recollection of a baby crying suddenly filled the relative quiet of the room, the man suspected that he was in for it...

 _Did you tell her yet_? Resonating deep, Nathan's words rang in his ears and brought back the image of a skeletal hand grasping up through the coins. Daniella had every right to know what happened to her father, as well as the part he and his little brother had played, but it seemed wrong to break the news when they were still in bed and she had just had a nightmare.

Another hour wouldn't kill anything, and besides, because they had such a big day planned it was probably for the best to hold off. Chloe would probably want what he'd found rolled up in a pair of yoga pants back, and even if Cutter himself was late to the show, Dells might enjoy the chance to meet someone closer to her own age. In fact it was something he should make a note to encourage, just in case she got the wrong idea about last night.

Elena had some people coming in too, but so far as he knew, Chloe and the Cutter clan were the only ones expected today. Visitors aside, there was still the plan to hit up the gym with his little brother, which they'd both really been looking forward to. Technically there was a small break between getting the exercise and putting the weight back on at dinner, but knowing this band of lovable misfits, they'd figure something out to fill the time. Logically that might have been the best time to act though, as the endorphins would naturally help ease the blow, yet it would be a real shame to cheat Cassie out of game night.

 _Nah_ , Sam kept pushing the timetable back so that he had more time to think of a good way to tell her, _the heavy stuff can wait until this evening_.

Ideally the pair could call it a night when it was time to put the rugrat down, alone, so that they could come back here to hash everything out. Provided they were out of there at the first, there might have even been the off chance that she could cry it out that night and still be good for the rest of the weekend. If he was giving her too much credit and she still held it against him by Saturday, well at least by that point there would be other options for accommodations available.

Added bonus to waiting until later to have it out, Dells might take the news better with a few drinks in her...

For the time being, he just wanted to keep it simple and start the day out by getting something in her stomach. Sausage, hash, a side of fruit, and a slice or two of toast should do the trick, just so long as she ate enough to have the protein to burn later. The heiress tried to pass herself off as some type of athletic, so he wanted to see her try to keep up with the big dogs.

Licking his dry lips at the thought of food, the brunette had figured out a long time ago what worked best for him, but he doubted that the girl could eat half of what he'd put on his plate, so he'd call it a victory just seeing her manage something solid and healthy. Or really anything that wasn't a bottomless short stack - anyone could stuff their faces with pancakes, so that was hardly a feat.

Propping himself up on his elbow so he could roll around to reach the phone to order room service (he wished more places still had a landline like this), Daniella held him tighter and shook her head against his chest so that he couldn't move more than a couple of inches, "I want a shower before anyone else sees me."

He didn't have to smell her to know how badly they both stank, but it was right there on a silver platter, so Sam loudly sniffed at her scalp, "Good call. When was the last time you took a shower?"

Catching just the faintest hint of something underneath the sweat that had knotted her spectral locks to the back of her head, he knew exactly when the last time was. Still wide-eyed at the thought of being left alone, despite what could have happened the girl had ordered him to stand sentry at the bathroom door while she bathed, and she then had returned the favor. Rather, she stayed in the bathroom fixing her hair in the fogged-up mirror. She must have brushed it a thousand times before deciding it was presentable; he thought it was fine the first time, when she had simply ran her fingers through it, but what did he know?

Either way the comment had earned a blush. Head still bowed so that he couldn't see her face, the brunette just knew how she'd react so he gave her this round, "Alright, later." Again, he couldn't see what she might have been doing so close to his heart, but he would have been willing to put good money down that she had smiled.

That blind faith was rewarded when the young woman wiggled back enough so that they could actually see one another properly, her lips quirked at both ends. Eyes finally meeting her grin, he wondered if that hadn't been the most teeth he'd seen on the heiress when she wasn't attacking a helpless plate of maple pancakes.

"Thank you."

It seemed to him that there was more to those two little words than her just showing a little appreciation for waiting on breakfast, and because of that he felt a pit form in the middle of his gut. Nathan hadn't been clued in, so he couldn't have known to work harder to try to save Rafe when things had gone sideways on the _Fancy_ , but he had. Sam knew that there was a little girl out there waiting for her father to come back home to her, but it hadn't mattered then. All that mattered had been finding Avery's treasure.

Pitch black hole chipping away at his insides, the longer he looked at Daniella the worse it made him feel. Sam couldn't even try to dispute that he didn't deserve the blissfully ignorant smile on her face or the humble show of gratitude.

"Dells..." Even the thief had no idea what he had been about to say to her, but the candid way she was considering him...

Guileless, stripped down to her purest form, naive, and just generally clueless as to what he was going through, the heiress cocked her head at the man. God help her, the pitiful creature actually trusted him; as if robbing a child of her old man hadn't been enough, he had to go and ruin her for good measure. Considering whose daughter she was, Daniella Adler probably wouldn't have lost it to a good guy anyways, but even in an end-of-the-world scenario, he never should have been the one...

Sam couldn't do it. "Just try to save me some hot water this time, huh?"

He never should have been the one that made her a woman, and yet there she was, laughing as if he'd just told a joke, "Why?" There was more than a little mischief in her eyes when she crawled on top of him to take the long way to the bathroom. "Aren't you coming?"

Pinned there to the bed underneath the heiress, the historian thought he saw a glimmer of that stranger from the beach, the one that was her own person and bore only a vague resemblance to someone that had passed by once. Trapped between her legs, there hadn't been a lot of time to dwell when her hands started to fumble-roam across his pectorals. Or maybe it was her lips grazing against the old ink on his neck that scattered his brain.

Mm, that felt so good, _so wrong_...

Clearing his throat, Sam knocked her hands away with the internal mantra ' _I've never wanted anything less_ ' on repeat in the hope that it might stick. "You go ahead. I have to make a call. Business." He didn't have any ongoing work at the moment, and regardless, he was pretty sure that the girl would buy just about anything he sold her, so the lie bought him the time to think of something better.

"Oh." Confidence shredded to ribbons just like that, her shoulders slumped in defeat and her face fell, "I... I see." Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, Dells acted like she had wanted to say something different, but in the end she believed him too much to even consider that he would be dishonest with her.

"Better take care of that then..." The brunette was pretty sure that he caught her shooting a sideways glance at the nightstand, but she took the hint and crawled off as he'd done more than chastised her, clinging to the blanket for coverage. Totally not getting it, she stalked off in disappointment, hands behind her back. "You'll still be close though, if I need you?"

Wrong as it was to use her condition against her, Sam could have kissed the stars for the hand-delivered answer to his dilemma. "That is my job." It would be wiser if he had kept silent, but her hopes seemed dashed enough, so he nodded as he reached for a cigarette, "But you've got this."

 **[Later That Morning]**

Lobby the obvious place to meet up, Rafael had been scanning the pages of a gossip rag when they found him; not nearly enough guests and staff just milling around to look busy, he couldn't even pretend to be people watching. That five year old that had just gotten busted with their hand in the cookie jar before dinner, Rafael had every appearance of being ashamed. In fact, he was so hard on himself that he had even begun to explain himself, "You have your vices, I have-"

Stopping short when he stood up to greet his companions, he snidely simpered knowingly towards the darkened marks from last night, "Hell's bells, you two look like shit! Was there a leech convention in town that I didn't know about? Seems to me like someone let you keep them on a little too long... It was _just_ your necks, right?" Missing the strained mood between his companions, he rattled off his last joke, "Seriously, if I had known I could have maybe picked up a tip or two! One for Alberto's more exotic clientèle, and the rest for her type."

Never going to be the best of friends, the advanced adventurer expected some kind of nasty comment out of the twerp, however the thief hadn't anticipated the crack to include Dells as well. She wasn't completely immune to Rafael's unique brand of humor, yet as he was keeping up that whole flirty 'I'm-gonna-fuck-you-to-spite-him' vibe, it was rare enough she was targeted. If the kid honestly thought his approach was going to work, he was an imbecile.

"My type?" She questioned.

"There's actually someone in the world that keeps leeches for pets?" Sam had grown up hearing about sewer gators and of all the other rare pets that people obtained through less than legal means but had no way of caring for long-term, however even in the city he had never heard of anyone insane enough to keep leeches. _Had people really gotten that crazy over the years_?

A noncommittal Rafael shrugged at Sam, opting to answer what he must have deemed to be the easier of the two inquiries first, "It could happen. As for you, Princesa, I mean the ones that love harder; like you they cling to the first caller for dear life, draining life away like a succubus. Your type start out unassuming, but when they get you alone..." He trailed off intentionally.

Set-up obvious in the explorer's opinion, the heiress was hanging on to every word, as if she could actually care, "What?"

Bait taken hook, line, and sinker, Rafael jumped at her, causing the young woman to stumble backwards into the thief. Scandalized so that she didn't have to focus on anything else, such as nothing getting let out that morning, Dells smacked the young man's leather-clad arm with a scowl, "Really!"

"He got you fair and square, love." Drenched in wry amusement, a familiar voice sounded from above. Of course Chloe would be descending the staircase at that moment. "Although I gotta say, he does have a point about the closet cases - you think you're in for a simple shag, and then the next thing you know, you're handcuffed to the kitchen table watching your partner getting pulled off by one of those rotating fans. But enough about me, how are you lot?"

Rafael decided in that moment that he liked Chloe.

Daniella was legitimately broken by the imagery, her chin tilting heavenwards, eyes squinting and mouth trying and failing to remember how to form letters. Once the art of speech came back to her, it was transparent that she wouldn't heal from the trauma, "...Why? Who even does that?! Why a fan? Is that even a real story?!" Realizing who they were dealing with, the ex-con knew Dells had made a wise choice to dismiss the question. "On second thought, don't tell me. I'd really rather not know."

Onyx gaze shifting from the party as a whole to study the younger female, Chloe beamed at the heiress when she realized who was underneath the lighter locks and the hickeys. Berating himself for getting so caught in the moment that his knowledge counted for naught, Sam returned Frazer's subtle smirk with a head shake - this wasn't high school, he didn't have to feel like he had to mark his territory.

"The new hair suits you. The rest," she gestured to Daniella's entire person, "not so much. Here," unwinding the sapphire scarf that had artfully been tied up her wrist for decoration, the older woman fixed it around the girl's neck to hide the worst of it, "Lovely. I'll expect that back when you're done with it."

Fishing through her pockets for her phone once the kerchief was in place, Chloe took a quick snap of the young woman. With Sam standing rather close just behind her. "Took you two long enough." They all knew without saying a word that it would probably end in tears, however the raven-haired thief knew that there was something therapeutic about hurling darts at an ex's face. "A girl can get old waiting around, and's not exactly like time is on your side."

Glad that they weren't reunited through the lens of a camera, Sam shuffled away from the heiress before any more photos could be taken for the scrapbook. "I thought you weren't flying in until this afternoon."

It was Frazer's turn to shrug, unperturbed by his overwhelming joy at seeing her again, "Caught an earlier flight on my broomstick. It was too late to send word ahead, so I figured we'd just surprise everyone."

Oh, boy. "'We'?"

Answering Sam's question in as vague a way possible, she pointed upstairs, where another woman that had only just left her room was grumpily rubbing sleep from her eyes as she descended the stairs. Of course Nadine was with her. That would just thrill Nathan.

The one-time rivals didn't hate one another per say, however that was still a considerable amount of bad blood that even a five year old had been able to pick up on. A start, they tried for Chloe's sake, but neither had ever really been able to say 'sorry' for that whole Avery thing. Personally Sam didn't blame his little brother in the slightest for holding that against the woman.

Due to the high dosage of morphine that had been in her system the last time they met, Daniella glanced around at Nadine curiously. The girl didn't give a hint that she recalled further back to her childhood either. "Whose that?"

Long-time acquaintances with the former private military leader, Chloe and Sam answered the question at approximately the same time, although while she sounded chipper about it, he was much more begrudging. Again, technically he and Nadine were fine with one another now, today was just... Today wasn't great. "Nadine."

Peering at the 'stranger' as if she were a puzzle and not a person (although was there really a difference?), something seemed to ring a bell for the heiress, but she couldn't quite place it. "And Nadine is?"

"Stuck with Chloe." The woman answered like it was an accusation.

Cautiously watching Dells interact with the one person that could blow the lid off and ruin everything, the career criminal felt a twinge of nervousness as understanding lit her eyes. "I know the feeling." Apparently settling on ignoring the chimes in her head and just registering the relationship as 'complicated', the young woman looked pass the brunette and introduced herself, "Daniella."

Blonde tresses no doubt throwing Ross off her game, she eyed the girl wearily as she gave her hand a wooden shake, evidently seeing Rafe as well. Good to know it wasn't just him - to be fair, it was an uncanny resemblance. "You..." Shaking her curls and rubbing her light hazel eyes again, Nadine was in a state of disbelief.

Intervening, Chloe was kind enough to finish her partner's sentence, "Look like you should go with your boy and get us all some coffee. Nadine here isn't exactly what you call a morning person."

Generous amounts of pinks tinting her cheeks with the assumption that they were referring to her so-called protector, even he got uncomfortable at the insinuation. Shuffling his feet and looking at literally anything else but at the heiress, the devil in the orange top didn't miss a beat. However, before things could get really awkward, Rafael swooped in. Wrapping his arm around the top of Daniella's shoulders like it was the 1950's, he steered her off towards the little café next door.

* * *

 ***Throws confetti and glitter everywhere***

Yay, it's been a year! Can you believe it?!

(Technically a year tomorrow, but I might be too busy to post then)

A major thank you once more to anonymous for the reviews, to the follows (who I think keep changing every time I look, but I could be wrong about that), to all of your readers! I know this hasn't exactly pulled in many of you, but I'd still like to thank you anyways!

And on a more somber note, I'm really strongly considering a complete redo of this story. One that I hope will be considerably better, assuming that I actually get to it. The want is strong, especially as I reflect back on this story so far, but I'd really like to finish this first. It's been WAY too long since I finished anything, and I've stayed on a really good roll with this one. So that's my main goal, seeing this through to the end! If I do decide to write another version, I have no idea if I'll wait or if it'll come side-by-side. Right now it's just a dream, so who knows?

So if I do or if I don't, feedback would be divine!

Cheers, and here's hoping that it doesn't take me another year to finish this beast lol


	56. Said Too Much

**\- Chapter Fifty-One -**

 **Said too Much**

Yellow-gold sun working its way higher in the solid aquamarine sky, the sidewalks were already hot enough to shimmer and singe if you were fool enough to stand still for too long. Pedestrians ambled at their own pace alongside the drawn-out sigh that was the wind, not a one of them in any real rush despite the heat. But why would they? Musicians filled every couple of blocks as far as the eye could see, and the market square was fringed by outdoor eateries and street vendors. Even the birds flocking to the lush green lawns were heedless to the humans going about their lives.

Meanwhile, on the way to the café next door to the hotel, a young interracial couple bickered about nothing. Space between the brick-and-motar buildings next to non-existent, the walk was too short to draw attention. Still, that didn't stop the pair from trying.

Irritated with the continued grip of the glorified nurse, the newly-minted 'blonde' attempted to swat him off with absolutely no luck at all. Resigning herself, she grumbled loud enough for her consort to hear, "I need company, not a second skin."

Heeding the complaint as much as she would expect, the young man pointed to the pure northern canvas above. "You really should relax. The sun is in its stride, the birds are taking wing, the flowers are in full bloom," Rafael pointed to the row of potted tulips that guarded the front door of the single-story coffee shop, "so can't you just take it in for a minute?"

 _Well, the flowers dotting the tabletops were vibrant and kinda cute_...

Pausing to just inhale the glorious morning, he refused to budge an inch until she complied. It was stupid, lingering there like that in the middle of path, but she supposed that he wasn't wrong - after everything that had happened, she really should take the opportunity to be glad for what she had. Her health, her freedom, and...

All things considered it was equal parts premature and stupid to let the thought even cross her mind, however, even in the all too real event that she never saw any of these people again, Daniella was glad to have met them. The travel wasn't so bad either, but it was the connections she was making that really stood out. Miss Frazer, Logan, Rafael, the Drakes... Each had given her something, a taste of everything she had ever missed out on from behind the walls of her ivory towers.

"Listen, I..." swept away in the moment, the edge in the young woman's tone had been knocked down a couple of pegs, "In case I haven't really said it, thank you. I don't really know the circumstances of how we met, but I'm glad you decided to look out for me, instead of... Well, you get the idea." Sam thought that Rafael might be working an angle, but from what she could tell, his only motivation was her pocket book. No different than anyone else really, but at least he was having fun with being the on-call medical expert.

Dragging the heiress forward now that she had mellowed out some, he lightly inclined his head in a show of humble glasnost, "I lost someone important to me. The way I see it, most everyone has at least one person that would care if you died." Being in that position once himself, the young man didn't relish putting the shoe on the other foot, acting as the guy behind the trigger.

Touched by the candor shown, she threaded her arm around her companion and tenderly rested her head against his shoulder. Time and circumstance meaning little enough in times such as these, the shared pain of loss echoed across the usual boundaries. Several details might have been lacking, yet that was okay.

On one hand, the graduate could have bared it all and told his date who it was that he had lost - she definitely had the mannerisms of a woman tip-toeing - but on the other, they were blocking the door. Destination more important, his sob story could wait another day.

"As Alberto tells me, life goes on. Now, lets go get us that coffee, before there's a massacre on our hands." Glancing back at the sunny utopia behind them, he made up his mind. "I think I'd like to come back to this place someday, wouldn't you?"

Jest light and sounding much more like the Rafael she had gotten to know, the young woman wasn't entirely sure if the question was rhetorical or not, so she just bobbed her head. It really wasn't underselling it to call this place a paradise on earth. "True, wars have probably been started for less."

Glad to see that she was finally on his page, he opened the door and allowed the lady to enter first. As she got into the line to order, he followed suit, wondering to himself how he wanted his coffee. Usually he liked it straight black, nothing to distract from the effect, but somehow something sweeter sounded better today. Perhaps with whipped cream or an unusual flavor? Alberto was the one that liked to get all fancy with the zillion and ten different offerings, what the hell did he know about the add-ons?

"Any clue about what we're getting?" Whispering for no real reason other than he didn't want to sound like he was out of his element, Rafael rested his head on the girl's shoulder while she considered the menu.

Focused on the task at hand (dare he hope that she was just comfortable with the position), Dells bit the inside of her lip. Caramel was her secret Achilles heel, so she was set, but what about everyone else? "Well, I know that Sam takes his with sugar and cream... Um, if I remember correctly, Miss Frazer likes chai... I have no clue about Nadine. What about you?"

Why was he not surprised that that was the first thing out of her mouth? No doubt just rattling off "what she knew", it was true that Daniella had sought his honest opinion. But that was conscious, because they were talking and were coming fresh off a positive note. Her going straight to the old man might have been a simple matter of progression, however he suspected that it was unconscious.

Ensuing eye-roll audible next door, Rafael didn't want to provoke any unnecessary ire for the time being, so he chose to instead pretend to read the menu. Cara-mocha whatever, something about a unicorn, it was just baffling. "Surprise me."

Getting to the front of the line by that point, the duo placed their order: a plain black and a black with sugar, a chai tea, and two caramel frapechinos. Rafael had basically just given her permission to order him whatever she wanted, and it wasn't like she was going to not vouch for what she felt to be the very best. As a little more than acquaintances, he deserved that much. More, for saving her skin, but everything in due time.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," willfully ignoring the overt cues from the blue-haired server as he charged the bill to his room, she took it upon herself to handle the carry-out tray, "but isn't this more sugar than it is caffeine?"

Beaming from nothing more than the strong aroma of flavors blending together as one super drug, the heiress nodded, clearly more into the steaming beverages than anyone else, "Yeah... I mean, yes. I think? I just know I love how its tastes."

Tastes, but doesn't make her feel? Reading more into that statement than a normal person would have, he was loathe to bring it up, however it was still prominent in his mind's eye. "Wasn't the point of this little excursion to help everyone face the day?"

If she didn't need the energy boost, what exactly had the pair been up to all morning? Were he actually into that kind of thing, Rafael would have made good use of the free time, especially when he knew that the downtime wouldn't last long. Had he been asked last night, the young man honestly would have said that he could see the two blowing off today just to take the time for themselves, no matter how much they professed to be psyched. _What had changed_?

"Was it?" She seemed rather unconcerned, her lips tight around the straw of her beverage.

 **[A Trio of Selfish Dickheads]**

"That was Rafe Adler's little girl." Blinking after the two kids as they left the hotel for a forced caffeine run, Nadine rounded in on Sam immediately. "Why are you here with Rafe Adler's little girl?"

Either time had been crueler than they could have guessed, robbing her of that whole episode about getting Daniella back from the Orange Tiger, or this was just Nadine's way of grilling him about what he might have been getting up to with the young woman. Given that Chloe (and travel) seemed to have exhausted her, the man would have liked to think that it was the former, but he wouldn't hold his breath. The really shitty part was that he couldn't even try to deny it and say 'it's not what you think', because it was exactly what everyone had been saying from the very beginning.

"Well," like usual, the brunette deflected the issue, "first I thought we could go looking at condos together - I mean if she's footing the bill, I may as well find a couple I really like - and then-"

Just as capable of playing the angel of mercy as she was of being the devil, Chloe chimed in with a not-so well-meaning snicker, "Picking out china patterns already? And here I was thinking it was just a simple fling."

Impossible to amuse when she set her mind to something, Nadine couldn't share in the levity of her companions. In fact, after learning that maybe there was a redeeming trait hidden someplace deep, deep down, there was a part of the woman that couldn't believe he could find this funny. Chloe had never met Rafe, so she couldn't possibly get it, but Sam... She was truly disappointed.

"That little girl is Rafe Adler's daughter." Repeating herself so that the point might sink in, Nadine was just at a loss. "I was there when that young woman was no more than a little girl. She made me play dolls with her..." Awaiting the snide remark that metal image would earn, it occurred to her then that Sam should have been floating nearby at the time. Not doubt he was either with the girl's father or was drinking with her men. "...You sure kept your distance then."

Positive that he didn't care for the tune the mercenary was singing, there was nothing to defend, so Sam merely shrugged, "Kids really aren't my thing."

Not helpful in the slightest, Chloe reminded them of Cassie, "You seem alright with your niece."

In what twisted universe were they living that he even had to explain himself? Yes, there had been one or two incidents that cut a little close to the moral gray, but those had been honest accidents - Sully could vouch for that. "Look, I wasn't planning on this, alright?"

Children were the last creatures he wanted to be around (with his niece being an exception), so back in Scotland he'd doubled back several times just to avoid seeing Bai and the kid whenever their paths might have crossed. The fact that they had met back up now that she was older and looked like she did...

Sam wouldn't go out of his way to plan that far ahead. He might have spent a fair amount of time concocting various false tales and dreaming about discovering lost treasure, however that long-con spite was just too exhausting to keep up. Did he dislike Daniella's parents? Yeah, but who in their right mind didn't?! The fact that he and Dells had hit it off was a fluke, the shared history nothing more than a coincidence.

Pulling out a cigarette, the brunette kept it there in his mouth as he fished for his lighter. Finding it in his back pocket, the thief lit up and moved for the exit, aware of how unkindly businesses viewed smokers. Followed by the two, he resumed speaking, "She's an attractive woman, what do you want out of me? I ain't a priest over here. And we... we had a moment."

 _Dammit_.

"Oh, a moment. Did you hear that Nadine? They had a moment." Frazer mouthed off in classic Chloe fashion, but shockingly enough, Ross genuinely seemed to get it. At least, he thought the look on her face was understanding.

Either way, it wasn't like he was going to count on Nadine Ross to advocate on his behalf, no matter how right or innocent he was. "Weren't you encouraging this?"

"Still do." Explaining herself at the younger's bewildered expression, the professional driver made it clear she wasn't picking sides definitively on this one, "Heaven help her, something about the girl comes to life when she's around you. It hadn't seemed entirely romantic at first, but hell if we ever get to pick who we fall for. I'll give you that much. One way or another, I have faith you'll do alright by her." The locksmith didn't say the rest, but it was her hope that the heiress might do something for him too.

Nadine scoffed. "I think that ship has sailed."

Sam shot back, "Yeah, along with your men and their share of the plunder." It was a low blow, they all knew it the minute the words were out of his mouth, but he had no intention of apologizing.

Hating when she had to be the sensible one that could still salvage the meeting of the minds, Chloe shook her head, "They'll be back any minute now, do you two still want to be squabbling then?"

Oh, neither was against it, but if Nadine figured out that she had leverage, or worse just blurted it out because she thought they were miraculously passed what had happened all those years ago, well, Sam didn't much care for that outcome. So he surrendered. "Alright. I can be the bigger man here."

Leering the typical daggers, her eyes threatened 'you can be the smallest woman here', however she knew that her friend had spoken the truth. The kids would be back any second now, and it really wouldn't do to be having this argument. Instead, there was another conversation they should have been having. "No, not until I hear how she feels about sleeping with the man that had a hand in her father's death."

"About that-"

Putting two-and-two together before he had the chance to come up with an excuse, Chloe acted on behalf of every woman (or person, really) that had ever been duped and punched her associate squarely in the arm. No mere tap, she made certain that it was going to leave a mark. "Seriously dude!" It was one thing to tell a little white lie, but to keep something like that from a person until after bagging them...

Cigarette falling out of his mouth, the historian supposed that he had that one coming. "Ow!" Rubbing himself where it hurt most, Sam grimaced, "I'm gonna tell her. I just haven't figured out how to yet..."

Struggle to wake up still an uphill battle, Nadine leaned against the side of the building to steady herself. Ordinarily she would still be in bed so that she could greet everyone in a more presentable state, however Chloe had kept her up for the better part of the night doing research for some hotel in China. A more alert Nadine would have remembered where, just like a rested Nadine would have spotted the pleading look scrawled across Drake's face.

"There's the day - I thought the great Samuel Drake knew everything?" Stiffing a yawn, Ross closed her eyes for a moment. Just a moment.

"Flattered you think so highly of me." He actually was too. Although right now he was more invested in solving this one than he was in trading barbs with the woman.

Dells was pretty quiet as it turned out, especially about herself, so that ultimately didn't leave a whole lot to work with. Timetable short enough as it was, it felt like the closer the girl got to returning, the more pressure there was to find the right way to broach the topic. Stomach twisting, it was rather like when he had to tell Nathan that work would have to take him away for about a year... Obviously that hadn't happened, but the brunette had spent so much time agonizing on how to tell his little brother that it was impossible to forget the serpentine sensation.

Left with a skimpy amount of knowledge for how long they had been stuck together, Sam knew that she was sporty, that she could almost hold her liquor, that she had read Gatsby. Educated as she was, there was an obvious disconnect from the rest of the world; Dells tried though, bless her.

Maybe someone else would have something he could use?

"Chloe, you two talk." Raking his brain for anything that might help soften the blow, Sam turned his attention to the one other individual on the rock that knew the heiress. "Do you know anything that might help?"

Understanding what the man was getting at, she accepted the request to offer what help she could; blame was never really aimed her way, although the woman still felt at least partially responsible for what had happened. Also, what good would any of them be out on the field if none of them could cook up a suitable scheme? "I'm guessing it isn't too far off base to guess that you two have already shagged, so you can't get her that again. Well you could, but it would be incredibly tacky. Nadine?"

Due to the nature of her relationship with Rafe, it was obvious that she at least would have a few stories that involved the kid. Maybe the woman had even retained something that could be helpful?

Head hurting from being asked to think critically first thing in the morning, the woman struggled against the heaviness of her crown and the very short night she had to go on. "I remember she idolized her father and would follow him around. She used to dress up like a pirate, and she had a toy owl... When Rafe had finally had enough, he ordered my men to her busy. Knot came up with the idea of planning little scavenger hunts for the girl." She was surprised she recalled so much. "One night, when we had to relocate from the site for weather, we stayed in and had a movie night."

"We?" Chloe teased.

Just in time to catch the heiress and her escort returning with spoils in hand, Sam had the beginnings of an idea forming. It had to be done by Cassie's party, but they didn't have to have that talk tonight necessarily...


	57. Need A Ride, Hotstuff?

**\- Chapter Fifty-Two -**

 **Need A Ride, Hotstuff?**

Content sighs and greedy Styrofoam slurps reverberating in the otherwise crowded lot, every single person in the group was in their own small slice of bliss as their cups were emptied in companionable silence. Nadine truly did just need the punch to get her shit in order; Chloe and Daniella were merely in it for how (unexpectedly) masterfully the beverages had been prepared; even Sam was taken aback at how good the drink was, and he must have been in that café half a hundred times before. Rafael was not going to be in a rush to order another girly caramel-flavored beverage any time soon, but it wasn't the worst thing he ever had. For him, it ultimately come down to his mind having time to wander.

Over a full minute passed like that, the "doc" with his back to the blazing parking lot, the mercenary resting against her thief and sharing the occasional sip with one another, Sam leaning back against the wall in the shade, and Dells nursing her dregs on the sidewalk when everyone else was just hitting the half-way point. Sun glaring at the group as they waited for their ride to come pick them up to take them up to the airport, the wind shifted suddenly.

Pulling his collar up against the breeze, Rafael studied the others. "So what do you think we'll do to kill the time?"

Seeing as Chloe had once again danced to the beat of subverted expectations by showing up early, it was a valid enough question. For anyone that was even passingly familiar with the history between Nathan and Nadine, they knew that there would be a span of icy silence followed by pointed complaints and dirty looks, however, as for what the group at large would do, it was anyone's guess.

Catching-up was the obvious bit, so Frazer casually suggested, "Late lunch?"

Nice as that sounded, everyone there had pretty much just eaten, and anyways, food probably wouldn't be on the agenda until everyone had been assembled. As some in their party might argue, it would just be 'good manners'. Shooting a covert peek over at the young woman sitting cross-legged on the the baking pavement, the brunette had other plans regardless.

Turned out that the collective needn't dwell upon the mystery long, as not thirty seconds later a lovingly-used SUV rolled up. Elena held up longer than expected on the office phone by their permit guy in Corpus Christi, Nathan had drawn chauffeur duty for the day. Not that he minded the excuse to get outside.

Lot not especially busy, there was just enough traffic that he had to pull over to the side for pick-up. Waving out the window to get everyone's attention, the unpaid driver left the motor running for a hasty getaway. Practicalities aside, it was just an ingrained occupational hazard, one that any of his friends would have understood.

Despite clearly seeing that not three but five people were waiting out front for his arrival, the younger Drake acted surprised when Chloe herself came up to greet him. Because of course she did. "Ma'am. Need a hand?"

"Hey there handsome, got room for me and some of my friends?" Playing it totally straight, the woman gestured back to her group of misfits. Rafael saluted with his paper mug, Daniella waved apprehensively (thinking of the conversation she had had last night with the missus), and Nadine simply enjoyed her coffee, eyes averted.

In contrast, Sam made it clear he had other plans and completely glanced away. "Hey, little brother."

Nate, who followed his sibling's line of sight before he even realized he had to, understood immediately: _it was about time_. Replying to his fellow adventurer without missing a single beat, he nodded back to the ample empty space in the vehicle. "Sorry, but I only have room for three. Two of you are gonna have to find another way to entertain yourselves until the next ride comes along."

Cup another swig lighter, the brunette shrugged, "Eh, that works out." Although it probably would have been good for Dells to meet new people, Sam decided to use the time to kill two birds with one stone. "We need to pick up something for Cassie anyways."

' _We_ '? Ears burning as her mind went in completely the wrong direction, Daniella apprehensively shot her eyes to her left. Facing the car like everyone else, the phantom fainter had been unable to rip her eyes off of the older man. All but forgetting that they had been fine that whole morning, the presence of the younger Drake brother served as yet another reminder that she couldn't keep hiding forever.

Unless she was just jumping to conclusions, and 'we' meant someone else?

For reasons she couldn't understand, Daniella was nervous at the very idea of spending all that quality time without any type of supervision. Dread settling in, Dells realized that she really didn't have much of a choice. Honestly, what was there to be so scared of anyways? No harm would come to her while Sam was there, yet...

Not the only one to notice the shift in atmosphere, Rafael and Chloe both knew to some extent where the explorer was going with things, so they kept up the ruse as they boarded. Aware of what Sam had to do, Frazer flashed a smile that was part knowing and part sympathetic, although she couldn't say who it was for. Both, probably. Whatever all the doc was planning, it was plain to see that the heiress was thoroughly under the thief's sway, so what came next would end up defining her, for better or worse. Thinking of the person-sized hole left in his life, the young man prayed it worked out better for her than it had for his own dearly departed...

Also in the know, Nadine stayed out of it and just drank her coffee.

"Who can say no to that face?" Playing up the dad card, even though he still had his reservations about her linage Nathan chuckled good-naturedly, "Alright, but curfew's at eleven."

"Aw, come on, just a little longer than that! I've been really good this week! I did all my homework and I even cleaned my room." Angling for an extra thirty minutes at minimum, Sam almost sounded like he was really asking his little brother for permission to stay out late with a girl.

The easy joke would have been to ask what said girl's parents had to say, however Nathan knew that that would have been poor taste. Plus, he was actively reminding himself to not bring up her father lest he say something that would have been better coming from his older brother.

"Fine, eleven thirty, but no later, you hear me Mister?"

Rafael indulged the show with a small chuckle, mouth thankfully too full of hot coffee to remind the duo to be safe, while Chloe had mustered up a laugh. Nadine's reaction... was to basically be Nadine, sans a good night's rest. Sam waved Nate on, "Alright, alright, hurry up now before you embarrass me over here."

Before any further objections could be raised or questions asked, it was just Sam and Daniella left. Laughing along with the rest at first, it was strange to her, because they had been alone that morning in their room without any problem (apart from the initial rebuff, but that resulted in an epic personal victory), so she didn't understand what had changed. After the shower the mood just wasn't there, so it could have been days ago, even the day they had met... except, well, he was avoiding her again. Or was she simply imagining it this time?

"Some deadline, huh?" Unsure about how to act or what to say, it was one thing to have little moments alone together, but unless the heiress was mistaken, this sounded like it was going to take up a considerable amount of time. And they would be by themselves... Alone.

Apparently it was contagious, the lack of knowing where to step to avoid the pirate-made booby traps. _The awkwardness that hounded them in turn_. "Some deadline."

Pins and needles beginning to creep up her legs, Daniella set her empty cup down at her side and stretched out on the curb, feet planted firmly on the asphalt. Rolling her neck and popping her shoulders, she peeked through her new fringe at the man. Puffing on his cigarette casually and looking all kinds of James Dean, the dark silhouette he cast was every inch the cool bad boy that you couldn't help but to drool over. It would have been better if he wasn't smoking, but she supposed that no one was perfect.

Eyes darting away before he could catch her looking, the girl wasn't nearly as crafty as she thought she was. Gaze intense enough to be felt through the back of his skull, the man smirked ever so slightly at her little ruse - whatever else was happening, it was rather flattering that she couldn't take her eyes off of him. Savoring the sensation of that and the nicotine, Sam took a long drawl and closed his eyes.

"So..." Drawing out the final vowel, the heiress addressed the thief with something akin to the second cousin of reluctance, asking herself for maybe the millionth time why it suddenly felt so strained between them, "Your niece, huh?" Even she wasn't entirely sure where she was going with it, if it was meant to be a joke to ease the tension, but it came out sounding rather rude and condescending, more like an accusation than anything else.

Haughty, just like her predecessor; although unlike her old man, it wasn't the automatic response. At least he didn't think it was. "Yeah," eyes snapping open, he shook out the final ashes and discarded the spent butt, "Rafe wasn't much for spending quality time either."

"Daddy?" Ever the textbook definition of daddy's little girl, the broken doll lost yet another layer of veneer at the mere mention of her father. Because that made things that much easier.

As much as it sucked, this was definitely one opening (and probably the most natural one that he would ever get), but... Sam glanced around at their surroundings, making special note of how crowded the area was getting now that the day was kicking into gear. There were an awful lot of people, and news like that would certainly cause a scene, so really it was a kindness to her prim sensibilities that he not just blurt it out there.

Gathering from the way she was playing with the bright green straw in her beverage that she was anxious, Dells tapped the plastic cup with every couple of words. Classic avoidance, although he would have thought the teen would have outgrown playing with her trash by this point in her life.

"You must have known him too, right?" As eager as she was to distance herself as far from her mother as she possibly could, it was only natural that Daniella would put together some sort of time line. "At least a little?"

Tilting her head at the end of the question mark, in truth a part of her was actually stalling. Sure, she would probably never say no to hearing more about her father, but just this once it was actually a handy excuse to teeter between past and present. To not have to address the real problem. _Because maybe if they had the chance to go stargazing again - if she could see even a single pinprick caught in the nebulous weave of cosmic pink and ethereal blue - then just maybe they would be okay_.

 _That's one way to put it_ , the grizzled thief thought to himself with a bitter taste on his tongue that even a decade couldn't wash away.

"You could say that." No longer fixated on the frothy dregs of whipped cream and caramel, instead his gaze found itself on a spot over the girl's shoulder. Being taller than most, it wasn't so unusual for him to see above the heads of others.

Approaching the heiress, she set her drink aside, both of them knowing that it was probably time they got a move on. Unspoken, a fraction of the ex-con was actively hoping that something - anything - might happen to distract from the current trajectory of the conversation.

Hopeful but not holding his breath, the grizzled bear extended a courteous hand to the young lady. Emblematic of the trust that she had given him, Daniella didn't hesitate to take the offer, fingers curling tight around his sleeve as he pulled her up. Simple as the gesture was, it was rewarded with a shy smile on her part.

Maybe he could have left it at that, but something in her eyes compelled the words to come out of his mouth. _Do it_ , the smarter parts of his brain urged, _tell her now_. "We worked a job together," if being scooped out of prison and then butting heads over the gold counted as any kind of partnership, "but it didn't exactly go according to anyone's plan."

"In what way?" Thinking along the line of a breakdown in negotiations, from what the heiress had seen from Drake it could have been just about anything.

 _Dells, why did you have to go and ask something like that_?

Lungs deflated as they prickled with the familiar sensation of being shivved, the cold hands of truth clamped across his chest and pressed all the air out in a shaky exhale. Winded as if punched in the gut while climbing a sheer cliff side, the question hung in the glowing morning sunlight, caught on a noose of brilliant rays. Rope creaking as it sawed the wooden support beam, in theory the man knew the exact right way to answer, but Sam didn't... He couldn't...

Bubble bursting, the phantom dollar bill realized that something was wrong.

"Sam?" Intimate enough now to be done with 'Mr. Drake', she was more concerned by the way he was looking at her, or rather, wasn't. Putting into practice what she had spent a good deal of time studying, she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that this time it definitely wasn't in her head. The sly scam artist was avoiding her gaze as if she were some sort of Gorgon. Look up, and his head was pointed down at her toes; something told her that it wasn't to admire her shoes. "Sam? Are you alright? You're starting to scare me."

Worry lines forming atop her brow, when she moved to reach out for the man she realized that he was still holding tight to her arm. A hair more than a healthy squeeze, it wasn't enough to add to the canvas of bruises painting her wanning complexion, but it was certainly stronger than a pinch.

"Sam?" Repeating his name as if it might finally break through, she cupped the side of his face with her free hand. Tender, she could care less what any of the bystanders might have thought - for once she had more pressing concerns.

"What's wrong?" Even the deaf could hear the concern in the young woman's voice, the blind capable of seeing just how mush she wanted to help.

Body giving her the only answer she would receive, the grip was imploring - desperate, almost like he were scared - as if letting her go might be the end. Of the world, probably not, but there was no mistaking a morose man drinking in the final blistering rays of the sun in the same greedy fashion she had devoured her caramel treat.

Precious crowning jewel of the Adler family looking up to him a certain way, the girl's bright eyes were just too much. Despite not be able to quite met her gaze, he felt himself leaning into the hand that brushed his cheek. Everything she felt towards him was in that touch, too good for the likes of a guy like him. He'd made peace with what he was, yet he forgot just how good it felt to be someone's hero again. To be idolized and depended upon. To be given the absolute highest amount of trust humanly possible.

Delight turned to ashes, it was only a given that after he came clean she would never want anything to do with him again. Rightfully so, he supposed. Attempting to think of things from a professional standpoint, he tried to tell himself that it was for the best. They'd go on with their lives in separate directions eventually, so really he should have been looking at this as beating the clock at its own game.

There might have been some overlap in their worlds, but they just weren't meant to mingle. Rafe had proved that so many years ago, as had so many others. Besides, it wasn't like he wanted anything more out of this girl than her money and a little ass. Who wouldn't? She was a walking, albeit clumsy, pocketbook. And it didn't hurt any that she wasn't so hard on the eyes. Constantly brushing her hair behind her ear, stealing little glances with an ineptitude that was actually kind of endearing. And she had an honest-to-God interest in history.

 _I'm just the first guy she ever fucked_. You never end up with the person you lose your virginity to, barring a few rare exemptions, and anyways it was doomed before that. He didn't even try to save her lunatic of a father, so it was karma really.

Anyways, he could find a hundred other girls to replace her once this was all said and done. Daniella Adler wasn't so special...

 _I'm just the first guy she ever fucked_.

Bracing himself to see that blind admiration turn to scorn once again, the silver fox found himself at the end of the road. Sure he could always lie to her and buy himself a few more minutes, but things would only be that much worse when the truth did inevitably find its way out. It always was.

"We were looking for Avery's treasure." If she was half as clever as he gave her credit for, she would understand what had happened.

Allowing that bombshell a moment to be felt, the thief watched the young woman process what she had just heard.

Not able to fathom the words that had just come out of the brunette's mouth, the pseudo-blonde gaped like a fish out of water. Surely she hadn't heard him right. Or there had been some kind of mistake. _Like... Um_... Ok, so she couldn't think of a single reason why he would say that, unless he was... Testing her...? Jay had done things like that in the past, but he'd never gone so low as to say that he had had a hand in her father's death...

Could it be true? Daniella didn't want to believe it for a single minute, but she herself had just acknowledged that anything might have happened...

Strange behavior suddenly making a lot more sense now, her face fell and her shoulder pulled back in its socket. Sam seemed so sincere when he told her, however he had to be wrong, or lying, or _something_! He protected her, so how could he possibly have... Refusing to even finish that sentence, there was a tiny little part of her better sense that chimed in, _he's basically being paid to protect you. Sam Drake is a conman, it's all about the zeros he'll see on that blank check, not a stupid little girl that's in over her head_.

 _But he..._

 _We..._

 _Oh, God! I_... Hand falling away dead, the girl's first instinct was to flee, to run as far away from her troubles as she could possibly get. Although considering that had never once worked out, instead she just sat there, completely shell-shocked.

"Dells..." Forgetting that he already had a hold of her, Sam automatically reached out with his left to comfort the young woman. Much as he may have wished otherwise, he was unsurprised when she flinched away from this new touch, the carmine hurt flaring enough to slap his hand away.

Xenomorph levels of acid in her blood, the look in the young woman's eyes told him that he had a lot of gall to even dare. To be perfectly honest, he couldn't really disagree.

[ **The Wheels on the Van Go Round and Round** ]

"Do you reckon they're gonna shag?"

Everyone looked back around at the permagrin splashed across the ravenette's face. While she was being serious (well, serious for Chloe), the returning stares were far more varied. Evolved from nursing her coffee like it was the ultimate preciousness to leering grumpily at the back of Nathan's head, Nadine's eyes went wide before she looked down at her hands. Used to driving with Cassie, Nate had mostly kept his eyes on the road, however it be lying to say that he hadn't flashed a look of disapproval through the rear view.

Rafael chortled, "You mean again?"

Nearly missing his turn, Nathan cut over the pavement and grass, sending up a light shower of dirt as he did so. Glancing sheepishly over at where his wife would have been sitting if she had actually been there, he thought back to something Elena had mentioned in confidence. ' _Daniella's going through a lot right now. She needs all the support she can get._ '

At first he thought that this spouse was thinking of the girl more in professional terms, a victim that had endure so much with a whole hell of a lot more to come. Now he realized that the blonde had seen so much more.

"Chloe," playing the straight man, he sighed her name in exasperation, a little taken aback that he would have to remind the woman of what was about to happen, "Sam's about to break some seriously heavy news to her. There's no way she's ever going to want to talk to him ever again, let alone... _that_." Nate screwed up his face at the mere thought.

She rolled her eyes, "Well obviously they're not going to be rooting after he tells her, but so far as anyone's concerned, he has hours until we harass him into coming clean with her."

"Maybe they will make a naughty," Chloe beamed with pride when Nadine used some of the slang she had been trying to teach her, "after a while." Having only been around the pair to bear witness to so much, the mercenary had seen more than enough to get the sense that the girl truly felt something for Drake. Then again, this was quite the bombshell to drop. And if it had been her first time... "After all, she does come from unpredictable stock."

Jovially elbowing the young 'doctor', Chloe informed her neighbor, "That's the nice way of saying crazy."

"Love makes us do crazy things." Parades pointed out that simple nugget of wisdom, having never met either of Danella's parents.

The beauty hadn't had the pleasure of making Rafe's acquaintance, but from everything she had heard, hers wasn't an incorrect statement. It wasn't as if Nate or Nadine were stepping in to defend the ass apparent. Or the woman that had given birth to the unfortunate offspring.

Avoiding that particular pitfall, Nathan laughed at the kid's suggestion, "Not Sam. He's plenty capable of doing stupid things without motivation. I don't think the girl classifies either. Apparently she doesn't buy into the whole idea of romantic love."

Nadine had to disagree, and this time it wasn't just to spite the younger Drake, "Just because you don't believe in something doesn't mean you can't succumb to it."

Without having to say it, she pointed out that Sam was still a man, and Daniella was a woman. An inexperienced one, but she was a woman nonetheless.

* * *

 **Author's Note** :

The scariest thing is that I had the beginning parts of this chapter written before the term "subverted expectations" became the unholiest of swear words. I can't be sure I wrote that portion before Star Wars Episode VIII (which I can't even care enough to remember the name or be bothered to look it up), but it was definitely before Game of Thrones went and nailed the coffin shut. But we're not here for those fandoms, we're here for Uncharted! And no, that repeated line was intentional, not lazy/forgetful copy and paste.

Seriously, a HUGE HUGE **HUGE** round of applause to _dragon-queen98_ for the kind review! I've been thinking of Uncharted for a few weeks now, but your review really gave me the kick to look back into the story. So thank you! I truly would love to see this thing finished, and seeing that anyone is reading this story really motivates me!

And another round for guest. Guests plural? I know I've thanked you before, but re-reading the reviews made me really happy, so thank you once more!


	58. Fun In The Sun

**\- Chapter Fifty-Three -**

 **Fun In The Sun**

Stage dark with only a spotlight shining over the lead actor in the pantomime, there was silence, nothing more. Players shuffled in the background, some pausing long enough to offer a cursory glance at the unfolding tragedy. Whatever else they may have thought as they went about their business, the act moved too slow, if it moved at all. Had the pair been standing there at the curb for five minutes or five hours? Or had it been even longer?

Ego a particular part of theater, this matter was deeply personal. Brought to this moment by actions taken long ago, there were only the stars of the production, the blonde child and the aged man that held fast to her arm. Swaying ever so slightly in the hot breeze, she stared sightless across the steaming asphalt of the parking lot. Physical stance firm, he had eyes only for his young ward.

Lovers once - not so long ago in fact - now neither knew where they stood.

From the look on her face, Daniella very well might have lost the map and literally did not know where she was. Sam, on the other hand, had a grasp on every outside variable, as many as one person possibly could; he did not, however, know how to proceed.

His job was to protect the girl, but how could he do that when history told him she would bolt? How could he be any kind of professional when he still wanted to pin her to the nearest surface and do all kinds of bad things to her? How could he continue to fantasize about exploring every last inch of her uncharted territory when he was reviled, his every breath in her presence a painful reminder?

On and on the cycle looped in on itself, a never ending ouroboros.

"Are you alright?" It was probably the worst possible thing he could have asked in that moment.

Finding out that you've been cozying up to the guy that had been partially responsible for your father's death could only leave you feeling so many ways, and 'alright' certainly wasn't going to be one of them. But Sam wasn't going to apologize for what he had done - Rafe had deserved what he had gotten.

Casualty of a decades-old earth-shattering event and victim to new information, the burned ghost was only capable of standing there. Dumbfounded, shaken to the very core, and downright cast out to sea without supplies, what else was there to do in her position? It hurt too much to look at the one person that up until those words had been her anchor, and forget even trying to form words.

Trained since a tender age to run and hide, her body was used to flying, to escaping from whatever problem had faced her. When he'd been alive, it had been her father she would run to for safety and comfort. Even when he had made it clear he was too busy. Usually he would always make it better, but...

He couldn't anymore, and now she knew the reason why.

Besides, what good would fleeing do now? The dominoes had already fallen, the fat lady done with her song. Still, it was a foreign feeling to fight with years of conditioning. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to move, but she wouldn't run (admittedly there was a good reason why she couldn't, but for once it boiled down to wouldn't). Not this time. So her body came up with a compromise - going slowly, the heiress plugged ahead, tugging slightly at the weight on her arm.

Brain blocking it out to prevent a nervous breakdown to end all nervous breakdowns, she couldn't think of it as Sam. It was just... a thing. A greedy thing that stubbornly didn't want to let go, a thing that was sentient enough to think that she was up to her old habits again.

Acknowledging someplace in the back of her head that there were errands to be run, she paused to show the thing that she was cooperating as much as she could. Willfully blind, she couldn't see or hear the thing, but she knew it was there, because she still felt a physical presence at her side. An empty silhouette... A part of herself that she missed...

Daddy? Or, was it... somebody else?

Numbness creeping in to marry with melancholy, her hands felt cold. Despite the blistering sunshine that was already cracking the polish of her shoes, pockets or gloves might have been nice. But no, it was impossible to go back.

He had done so much for her, so now it was her turn to be brave. Taking a small half-step to show this invisible force what she was doing, she waited for it to follow her example. If the thing wanted to follow she would allow it time to do so, and if it wanted to let go, she would be more than alright with that too.

 _Alright._...

Something about the word broke through the fog, as if she were listening to a recording behind a door.

 **[Worse Than a Tropical Summer Storm]**

Arriving on the island in one piece, Bai was just grateful to be back on solid ground once more.

In addition to being unforgivably shabby on the outside, Victor Sullivan's seaplane left her with the constant apprehension that they could sink at any moment. At least in the water she felt like she might have stood some chance of survival, but in the air? It was better on her system to focus on the blinking lights of the control panel.

Although that entailed sitting up in the front in the cockpit, which in turn risked Victor blathering on and on. He'd eventually shut up when he realized she wouldn't be bothered to pay him the slightest bit of attention, although that silence would only last for so long. Perhaps it was a sign of senility setting in. The bespectacled beauty couldn't say for sure, and frankly, she didn't care, so long as he could get her where she needed to be.

When focusing didn't do the trick, the woman found her mind going back to Daniella. Samuel should have been keeping her daughter safe, however 'safe' didn't always mean warm, or even sheltered. The product of her upbringing, that girl had been raised in too much luxury for this experience to not be a devastating shock upon her fragile little system.

 _Rafe could have handled it_.

"The hotel is just up the pier, behind the market."

Breaking the widow in black from her demons, Sullivan pointed out the dockside bazaar that stretched as far as the eye could see from one end of the coast to the sheer drop into the water at the other end. Just behind the sprawling network of tin stalls and canvas canopies, nearest to the crooked path to the dock, the skyline was cut with palm trees and buildings that went as high as four or five stories. The businesswoman deemed it a wise call to put the hotel next to one of the major ports into and out of the island.

Relationship such that any more was just a courtesy, the elderly gentleman was eager to be on his way, "You can go on ahead. I have some business to attend to."

If Bai had bothered to listen to anything the old man had said, she might have known what that business was.

Seeing as she hadn't, it would have been a waste of breath to say anything else. So the woman took her leave, going on her way to get as nice a room as she possibly could on this rock. Dreaming of a hot shower and a bed softer than the guerrilla cots on the seaplane, Bai didn't much mind the scorching heat of the sun overhead. In fact, it reminded her of a time in Cabo San Lucas.

 **[Shopping with a Cadaver Would Be More Fun]**

Adrift in a sea of scarves and surrounded by glitzy bronze sharks with cubic zirconium teeth and cheap cooper eyes, the thief and the heiress had made their way to the outdoor swap meet. Vendors shouted out about unbeatable sales for poor imitations of real treasures that he had actually had his hot little hands on. Pedestrians ambled along at their own pace, gawking at multicolored rugs that may as well have had sewn on tags declaring that they were made in China. Pickpockets and con artists alike ran their games, all but the greenest of them wiser than to mark a Drake.

Cassie quite enjoyed coming out this way, confessing once that it was to drink in the human melting pot of cultures. Smart kid, his niece, and one that was getting to that age were it was hard to shop for. Did he get her some little trinket that she would find cute for the better part of the year, or did he foster the familial love of history and exploration? The girl had her own interests as well, but again, she was at the age where it was more subtle than 'I like x-thing'.

That had been one of the draws of having a young woman closer to his niece's age on the case. She was recently there herself, so surely she would have some insight as to how Cassie's mind was working. Girls weren't all the same, but at least Daniella could appreciate the growing pain of Troll doll or Galaga, lipstick or a beginners guide to free climbing.

At least, that had been the plan...

Practically a zombie, it was a wonder that the heiress had found her way anywhere. Sam knew he had no room to criticize her for shutting down the way she had when he was largely responsible, but he had anticipated a much different reaction. Volcanic anger that resulted in a backhand that could be heard the world over, a square kick, yet another vanishing act... Anything but nothing.

"Oh, what a pretty scarf!" Pedaling paisley and plain prints, the nearest shop owner called out to Daniella while straightening a spotted kerchief, "But I think we can find you something even better, no?"

Freezing in her tracks, the newly minted blonde tilted her head at the stand. On the surface it might have looked like she was ogling the polychromatic display, but the truth was that she was wearing Chloe's scarf for a reason. Fingers rubbing over the fabric to itch at the dark splotches carelessly peppering her skin, she rotated just enough to make her protector think that she was going to look at him.

He wasn't quite sure if he wanted her to or not. On one hand, it was so much more pleasant to just be able to go on with their day without having to acknowledge anything that had happened.

A false alarm, Daniella instead peered into the mirror that had been set up for customers to model the product. Shaking her head at her reflection, the woman carried on with her search for that perfect present for the bespectacled blonde stranger. In her head, she hadn't spoken to the birthday girl to form a close enough bond to feel much of an obligation to get her a gift, but she did feel like she owed Elena. Even Nathan, although in truth they hadn't interacted all that much either.

But they had opened up their home to her, and they had been far kinder than strangers in their position had any obligation to be. And not just to her, but to Rafael as well.

Gliding away from the scarf shop with a strange feeling like she was forgetting something, Dells wondered what he would get for Cassie. Or if he would bother. Technically they had both been extended invitations to the party, but there was nothing making them go; besides, even if they did show up, there was no law that said they had to bring a gift. It was just good manners, she supposed.

A shadow walking across a grave, the grizzled babysitter thought that he felt a dark cloud at his back. Turning to verify this hunch, he sees nothing of note. A gull flying off with the spoils of a fresh catch, the squalling of a child that had been denied.

For half a heartbeat he might have thought he saw a familiar face leering through the crowd, but a second glance revealed it to be a matter of mistaken identity.

However it did look like it might rain, a sudden roll of summer clouds gathering in the sticky ultramarine sky.

 **[Fast-Forwarding Into The Future]**

Well, he was right about the weather.

Magically productive in that they had found something for the birthday girl, the unmovable force that was Sam had paid for the goods laid out on the counter. _I'll get reimbursed for this later_ , he told himself as he committed the final tally to memory. Detached as the secret shopper was, she had done a reasonable job selecting what she had, although it remained to be seen if Cassie would share the sentiment.

Fortunately they were already on their way back to the hotel when the lightening slashed through the heavens. Thunder coming down over the ocean with a resounding clap, the heiress had glanced across the horizon with a small frown when boom come. Crease deepening with each subsequent rumble, as she stood rooted in place, she clutched the bag tightly to her chest to keep the contents from getting wet. Rain was only just starting to sprinkle down, but it was a good call.

Pelted back and front as the winds shifted with schizophrenic fervor, the duo was soaked by the time they made it to their room. And of course the power had gone out, leaving the staff and guests alike to fumble around with only a vague sense of direction to lead them around. Normally there would be a back-up generator waiting in reserve of such occurrences, however something must have happened to it, because the only light came from the semi-visible sun outside.

While there was a column assembled at the front desk to complain about nature and its design, Sam didn't feel the need to bother. He could find his way back up to their room, even with the little wayward duckling at his side.

Hesitating by the door - clearly plagued by indecision - Dells continued to clutch the goods to her person with an iron grip. God's migraine either the best or worst timed thing in the world, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt the hand on her shoulder.

After everything that she had been through recently, the heiress couldn't help but to look at who it was that had grabbed her from the darkness. Mind going straight to Angel and Ashley, there was a brief wave of relief when she recognized a familiar shape in the shadows. And then there wasn't even that, the floor ripping itself apart to swallow her whole.

"Come on," one hand on her shoulder to steer the doe in the right direction, the grizzled wolf placed his other on the small of her back to push her along. Mouth pressed to the shell of her ear, he leaned into the excuse that it was too dark to keep his hands to himself. "The stairs are right over there."

Gulping, it was the first time that the thing had spoken to her directly, the voice sounding like safety in the storm. Lulled into the lie a little too easily, she nodded against the jaw that had just spoken, magnetized to the small bits of familiarity in a situation that all but demanded as much.

Progress slower than it normally would have been, the pair moved faster than most anyone else in the lobby. Shambling forward, every few steps they would stop to feel their surroundings, the girl muttering a low apology every time she thought she bumped into someone. Guided true, every single time they paused, the duo found themselves closer and closer until the lines of proximity were blurred into obscurity altogether. The thing seemed to know where it was going, and after the rain, it was nice to feel even a little warmth.

But didn't it feel a little too nice?

Thinking along those same unspoken lines, Sam savored the feeling of her figure melding against his own, her frame shuddering ever so slightly as he lingered next to her cheek. Fiddling with the keys, he knew that not all of it had to do with the cold seeping into their bones.

Body electric and traitorous, Dells felt herself falling back into the thing just before he could get the door open. It! Before it could get the door open!

Rosy-cheeked, the heiress stepped away from the thing the instant the door was open. Angry and disgusted, she berated herself from the door to setting down the bag on her side of the bed. Shooting a furtive glance at the tangled sheets, she wasn't sure there were enough pillows in the world to surround herself with.

Island irises darkening as he watched her gaze dart to and from the bed, the pickpocket knew he shouldn't have been dwelling on things like that when he should have been thinking what he would say to Nate. Text messages a blessing in that you could speak in the shortest hand possible, it was worth asking if they were still be going to the gym later.

Provided the weather didn't get progressively worse, there was no reason why they wouldn't go, although considering how things were playing out in his camp, he wasn't sure about what he would do with the girl. Originally she sounded like she was going to show up the boys, but now he wasn't sure she would even be up for going.

He could always just leave her with Elena, but... between how much his little sister had already contributed to his gig and the fear of what Chloe would say to the young woman, he didn't particularly like that option.

Lack of power not the same as a lack of hot water, it would have made all the sense in the world for Dells' next move to be a shower. Wet from only a small bit of rain, the heat and pounding water might do her some good, so he opened the bathroom door, resting with his back to the wall. Pulling out a cigarette to tell her without any words in the slightest that he would still be guarding over her body, he was looking forward to having a good think.

Except she moved to sit at the window, a bottle on hand. It was too dark to discern what she was holding, but whatever it was she was drinking it slowly.

Silhouette nursing the presumably amber liquor, before long the shivering got worse, but her only recourse was to grip the bottle tighter and wash the cold feeling away.

Half-tempted to throw a blanket at her since she apparently had no interest in changing out of her wet clothes, he recognized the look of a person that wanted to be left alone. A wounded heart that needed time and space. Once again he saw his little brother in the young woman, but this time he could also see himself.

* * *

 **Author's Note** :

Just wanted to warn anyone reading this that I posted a chapter two days in a row, so if you're just jumping ahead you might be missing something. Alright, carry on and have an excellent week :)


	59. Be My Bad Habit

**\- Chapter Fifty-Four -**

 **Be My Bad Habit**

By the time she had gotten to the end of her first bottle, enough time had passed for his cigarette to burn low.

Cloud of smoke hanging like a smoggy silver halo in the faint light in the dim room, things had settled outside of their prison. The insufferable wailing that had started earlier had ceased, and much of the blind bumbling had distanced itself, however there was still the sapphire patter on the rectangular slit in the wall.

Exhaling a thick dappled puff of ash into the confines of their four walls, the man combed his fingers through his peppered auburn locks. Thought an all-consuming monster that knew few equals, he tilted his head against the door frame that divided living quarters from personal maintenance. Dark too saturated to make out much, his eyes lingered over his young ward.

Miserable with a hair more than the usual teenage angst, the three dimensional stock photo stared into the depths of nothing as she nursed her security blanket. Catatonic for lack of a better word, if it weren't for the downward tipping of the bottle, he might have thought she was dead.

If this was how she reacted to learning that he had been a part of the team at that time, he was not looking forward to breaking the rest of the story.

Then out of nowhere she suddenly began to hum to herself, earning a thick red arch pointed in her general direction.

Switching between old Germanic and traditional Chinese, from what he could make of the broken lyrics, the songstress couldn't recall the entire lullaby in her current state. If it was even a complete song in the first place.

Or maybe it had just been too long. It wasn't as if Rafe were still around to help round out the blanks. So far as mother dearest was concerned, there wasn't a snowflake's chance in hell that Bai would be willing to waste her time reciting an old nursery rhyme to her adult daughter. Perhaps she would for her grandchild, but that would be a long time waiting.

Head against the window pane long enough for her hair to collect dew, when she pulled away it was with a string of what he took to be Mandarin. To be fair, it might have been some other dialect. The world-traveled and studious Sam thought he might have recognized one key word in the slurred speech, but he couldn't be positive. Accusatory and dark, he _could_ tell that the storm cloud was aimed at him however, most probably having to do with what he had done.

Weary of how much she had been drinking up until this outburst, he snuffed out his cigarette and moved to do his job. Deep in his gut, moving away from the bathroom door after all this time felt like it was crossing from one boundary to another. From jade jungle to the secret city hidden within. In short, he had a foreboding about engaging with the little booze fiend, but it was his duty to pry the bottle away before a bad habit was formed.

 _Or worsened_.

"Alright," a drinker at heart, the expressionist didn't miss the hypocrisy of his goal as he gestured for the booze, "I think it's time we cut you off."

Gently conveyed with patience to keep things as clean as he could, the young woman still saw the suggestion as an act of aggression. Opposed very deeply to losing the one thing that could possibly give her any kind of solace, the drunk heatedly set the bottle back down on the ledge. Fire and brimstone, there was enough force in the motion to tell that the clacking of glass was louder than the swish of alcohol.

Nathan had been just as sullen a drunk after one of his first major heartbreaks. Largely out at that time, Sam couldn't really remember the details of the time he was in the picture, but if memory served his little brother had been quite smitten with some local. It was always doomed from the start - one of the first times they had ever agreed on anything, even Sullivan had said as much - but the kid still fell. And boy did he fall hard... right into the middle of almost being a patsy for another smalltime crook.

Ultimately everything ended up aces, the cards falling in a way that gave his little brother real happiness. Gave him Elena and Cassie. Dells, on the other hand... Sam still wasn't sure how that hand was going to play itself out.

Off-balance more than usual, the heiress swayed dangerously from side-to-side as she ventured over to the nightstand. For a moment he had no clue what she thought she was going to accomplish, but the kind answer would have been for her to crawl into bed and sleep this off. Obviously she couldn't sleep everything off, but a little shuteye might just give Sleeping Beauty the room she needed.

No, he had no idea what she was planning, until the bottle of scotch from last night went flying across the room and shattered against the wall next to the door.

"Well now, that's just a waste." Lamenting the loss of a cherry vintage more than anything else, he shook his head at the wreckage.

With only so much left within arm's reach to follow the attack up, the projectiles failed to hit with much force. Plastic sealed latex bouncing harmlessly off his chest and torso, the glorified babysitter spared a glance at where the wrappers gathered at his feet. Agitated even further by this, she waved the final weapon in her arsenal in the air frenetically, shouting hysterically all the while.

Brandishing the last condom as if it were a grenade, Daniella hissed out as Sam attempted to wrestle the wrapper out of her hand. Momentarily flashing back, he had seen what a well-placed bomb was capable of. Fortunately this time it was perfectly harmless, but the thought of an angry hobgoblin with any type of weapon was rather unpleasant.

Fingers wrapping deftly around her smaller hand, calloused prints glided effortlessly across frozen porcelain. Frantically fighting back the whole time, he was left no other choice but to envelope her trembling frame in order to get purchase. Grounding his foot into the polished wood floor beneath the bed as best he could, Sam used his height and weight to his advantage. To her credit, being almost three sheets to the wind lent a kind of savageness to the quote-unquote defense.

Body squirming like a worm on a hook as the fighting spirit took a hold, the atrophying Barbie took things to the next level and tried to ram her shoulder into the perceived enemy.

Element of surprise earning minimal knock back, instinct reacted before the man could, shoving her back in kind. Never the most steady of people from what he had seen, it came as no great shock that this caused the girl to lose what balance she already didn't have.

Neither willing to let go of the would-be projectile, the pair tripped through the primordial darkness to crash-land on the springy mattress. Struggling with the wrapper even upon impact, neither paid much mind to the heavy thud their combined weight made, or the squeaking of the confrontation that filled the air.

Not quite at the point where she mistook Sam for her real foes, Daniella was actually pretty scrappy, resuming the uninterrupted war with persisting vigor. Pain and anger great motivators as it turned out, she showed little problem using both hands to tug, scrabble, and tear in order to feel like she was in control of just one single thing.

Breaking out from underneath damp denim, her thigh brushed up against the lower loop on jeans that served no immediately understandable purpose, knee wrapping around the back of his leg. Determination at full force, the same girl that had jumped from a second-story window threw herself into the grappling game.

Eye contact might have given her the edge she needed, however Dells refused to go to that place, lest the maneuver backfire. Banking on her current course, she doubled-down on erratic movement and the unpredictability of limb.

Pretzels and knots would have nothing on her! Cue the epic theme music blurring in her head to make this out into some historic battle for the ages. Half-remembering yoga, despite twisting all around to capitalize on every possible advantage, the method of the octopus failed Daniella. It failed her miserably, leaving her no closer to victory.

For all the effort he saw the young woman put in, it was almost a pity that Sam had to overcome her sloppy street tactics.

 _So soon_... Win not without drawback, in spite of staying in his wet things like a stubborn dumb-ass when there were drier options available, the man could feel the back of his neck burning a searing-hot pepper red. Not crimson or a sensual carmine, a very lusty scarlet - the kind that they made into lipstick, the kind that was designed for making out.

Just barely discernible in his shadow, the silhouette of her pout was a double-edged sword, one half reminding him why he shouldn't be thinking that way. The other... Oh, the other was like light to a moth, drawing him in.

Almost sweating from the delicious friction of their lively encounter, it was difficult to not notice certain things.

Statistically, there was the nagging fact that there was some small amount of alcohol consumption, then a hasty battle with protection that culminated with a fated tumble into the sack. Mind wired for seeing the world his way, the mental gymnastics required to fill out the blanks weren't overly strenuous. In fact, all the evidence he needed to support his case was to state that all they had to do was try to climb every which way over the other to reach their current position. Which wasn't a lie, necessarily.

Less a subject taught at some point in school and more something you just intuitively came into during life, the most damning part was how his body had nearly acted of its own accord, rising softly to meet her in the middle.

Driven by his own desire, the topping hips ground themselves against the bottom like an anxious sleeper grinds their jaw thin, every second longer than the last. Orange flames dancing higher than the blackened embers she smoldered over, the yellow licks of passion only intensified when the spry temptress had snaked around her waiting prey. Vermilion toasting logs that could only turn blue, he knew then that while he might not have been kissing her, he was definitely touching her lips.

Intertwined at the waist and wrapped up the way of lovers, during the scuffle it would have been easier to excuse anything she might have felt off as merely the heat of the moment. Now that they had slowed to a stop, the adventurer could think of no good reason why they should remain that way, legs hopelessly tangled one loop shy of a hitching tie.

Suffering alight in his eyes, Sam hesitated, painfully aware that she would catch on sooner rather than later if he didn't stop. Although she wasn't quite as warm as the nuns had promised hell to be, how could he bring himself to stop when it felt like Dells was custom built, just for him?

Stealing one moment more like the thief he was, Sam was all too aware of the bellowing ache Daniella only scratched by accident.

 _It just feels good because of the temperature_ , no matter how many times he put that mantra on repeat, it was hardly enough. After getting so worked up from their newfound proximity, he couldn't not see Dells from last night, her back to wood and sand and all the stars in the sky. Captured at her most vulnerable, he couldn't not hear her crying out for him, begging for more than just a taste. Chaste no longer, he had been the reason why everything had broken apart to reforge itself anew. She was a woman, because of him.

If he could, Sam would like to go back to that moment.

Lost someplace between his own self interest and what the other person in the room was going through, laying atop the mini heater made it apparent just how cold they had gotten.

"We should get you outta those wet clothes." Motivation neither purely altruistic nor entirely perverse, he anticipated the blow-back; what the career criminal didn't fully account for was the swift knee-jerk. Nodding slowly as he counted to three, Sam lectured the heiress, "That wasn't nice."

For her part, the girl didn't take too kindly to the negative outcome of their battle for safety, nor did she much appreciate the sudden suggestion that they... that they... Reliant upon her anger, the heiress began to beat on his arm. Fists feeble at only every other punch, it was all too clear what she was trying to say.

 _How could you hurt me like you did_?!

 _I trusted you!_

Horizontal interchangeable with vertical for the drunk, it was in her eyes too, glittering in the darkness like a cobra on the hunt. _Dammit Sam, I trusted you with everything I had_...

 _I hate you._

While the words were there, there seemed to be something missing in the velocity of the accompanying strike. There was no knowing if it had been some kind of mistake, or if he was simply starting to acclimate to the force she was exerting, but it sounded like there was something there, holding her back. Or maybe he just hoped...

Hoped that...

 _Hoped what_? Shaking his head, Sam sighed and nearly leaned his forehead against hers. He couldn't explain why, but it just sounded good, _peaceful_ , like something he should just do.

"Dells," tone calm and head drooping but not quite touching, he could only take so much more.

Reading each blow as they thundered down (or rather, up), the sky mirrored her pure fury. Blackest ebony at the surface, neither showed signs of subsiding, nor would they know containment. Wearing down the sturdy foundation, the barrage kept up until such a time as the winds shifted and the rain hit the window. Slowly the drops came, fat and round against the glass, but they would not cease.

"Stop." Less upset at the abuse and more apathetic about it at this stage, his tone was a warning to the wounded specter. _You don't want us to go down that road_.

"No." Declaring her intention with a rather telling warble, she brought her hand up once more. "Not until you know."

He wasn't an idiot, yet it was apparently something that had to be said between them. Serious as the watery grave in which Rafe was rotting, Drake tossed his empty prize down just out of Rambo's reach and held her down. "Know what, dear?"

Succumbing to the confinement but not the man that held the chains, she collapsed back against the mattress. "That we can't do this anymore," to illustrate what she meant by 'this', the young woman bucked her hips up into his overactive groin, rubbing against him to their individual detriments, "I have to hate you now. We can't like each other like that anymore..."

 _"_ Why," Sam's eyes demanded to be told, the hard line of his mouth unwilling to be satiated with less, "because of mommy and daddy?" Raised a certain way no doubt, it was hardly a newsflash that Bai hated everyone that wasn't Rafe, and the last time he checked, the crazy bastard was dead. Largely by his own hand at that, but the heiress hadn't quite heard the full story just yet. He should probably fix that, but she was hardly in a state to retain the important details.

Capitan Morgan (or maybe it was Jack Daniels) responsible, Dells was just drunk enough to miss the beat of the conversation. "Because we can't."

Not a no, there was no part of her that he couldn't read as an invitation.

Powerless and completely in charge simultaneously, as he hovered above the young woman he could feel the magnetic pull return. Once again squaring off for the title of master, all there was was the invisible hook in his navel, yanking him left and right every time she breathed. _They must stay connected_ , it was imperative, a matter of life-or-death. To be without for even an instant would be tantamount to death...

Alright, so maybe that was a little on the dramatic side, even for him. However it was almost too much to part now... Seeing the right parts of both Rafe and Bai in her was bad enough, but feeling just how warm she was beneath the wet layers of their clothes...

Fragile, drunk - drunk enough that she almost certainly wouldn't remember any part of this - and the very definition of daddy issues, Dells was exactly his kind of girl.

Clawing to the surface whether anyone liked it or not, there was no hiding how he felt in that moment. Hair spilling across the hotel sheets, blue lips parted just enough, it was like an amalgamation of a pin-up and a rescuee from the Titanic. _Was that a sin_? Pretty sure it was, it was by far the least egregious on the list.

Blood pounding in the hazy noir setting they found themselves in, the girl attempted in earnest to resume her assault, beating wildly against his chest. Stirring more than an outcry for independence, all the good boy points Sam had accumulated these passed couple of years were gradually ticking away. Rapidly flying away. All but vanishing in the blink of the proverbial eye.

"I believe I told you to stop." All but growling, it was for her own good, really.

Riled up and sporting rosy cheeks through the gloom, just watching the strain of her chest heaving beneath him was... Tantalizing. Er, bad. Very bad. Questioning why he should hesitate - oh, yeah, that whole thing about her daddy - a part of Sam was utterly captivated by the sight, absolutely enthralled by the ragged noise of her hard breathing in the soaked silence.

"Dells..."

Successful in his endeavor to disarm the young woman and little else, the grizzled brunette had to remind himself of the position he was in. In with the heiress, not the fact that they were just two lost pennies that kept finding themselves in the same pocket. He royally fucked her over, and she was just too raw to do that to at this stage.

 _Daniella was... fragile_. Whereas she had usually made him think of Nathan by fluke, this time he actively found himself trying to compare the two so that he would be less tempted to cross any boundaries he probably shouldn't.

"About those clothes..."

Quivering despite being sandwiched between the southern gates, Daniella would still be hitting him if she could. _He had to understand, and he had to suffer_. Emotional in the purest and most seething of ways possible, the rawness in her eyes only made it that much harder to hold back.

Except, the more she struggled beneath him, the harder it was getting to not fall back to the most selfish of impulses. He was only trying to say that she would catch a cold if she didn't change soon, but his body was saying something else entirely. _How the hell was she so immune to the string tying them intrinsically together_?!

Secretly, she wasn't.

Wishing that she could be wholly numb to not have to bear the jealous weight of her father's shadow, Daniella would have given anything to be able to just collapse into the sturdy hollow of Sam's heart. To just cry and feel his hand across her back, pulling her deeper than deep. At least, that was what had been going through the mind of a mostly sober Daniella. Now that she was pissing into the wind, the hardest place for her to be was actually right where she was.

"Why can't you just let meh hate you?!" Sobbing into a shirt that wasn't quite dry yet, the heiress furiously shook her head, screaming at the top of her lungs that everything might be easier if she could only make him feel a fraction of what was crashing around her.

Not as good a daughter as she pretended to be, Daniella wanted to hate him, she really did.

Pressed against the man the way that a woman in lust should be, Dells felt herself going blind between the hazy tilting of the world and the water building up behind her eyelids. Liquid amber replacing proper, clean plasma, her hand balled into a fist at the doorstep of his heart. Knocking once against the thin wet fabric and the flesh beneath, she lingered, lost and alone and desperately needing a friend.

 _I need you, Sam_.

Control slipping (if it existed at all), the young woman needed him as a friend, as a protector, as a drug, as just a moment of relief. Without knowing the true extent, Daniella needed him in every way he was willing to give himself. The more she could have of him the better, however like any addict on the low, she was prepared to take whatever she could get.

 _You're the one that hurts the most, more than Angel and Ashley, more than Mama's lies, but I need you, Sam_.

Magic words a curse for the well-behaved, he thanked his lucky stars he didn't count himself among their ranks. Gingerly bringing one hand down the expanse of her arm, the thief traveled slow enough to elicit a breathy huff. "There are other ways to hate someone."

Terrified that this was some sort of ruse, she squinted so that her hopes couldn't go any higher than her eyelids. "Like wha?" Having some inkling of where this could go, fire was feeding fire in her belly.

Just a whisper, the answer sent a shiver shooting down her spine all the way to the core.

 _Sam_...

Virtually ignored, there was a tiny holdover of sense or sobriety - call it what you would - that tried in vain to reach her last remaining braincell. _That, what he suggested, that sounded more like a reward than a punishment._ Then again, with almost no inhibitors to her inhibitions, the simmer roiling in her gut was even harder to ignore.

Practically nose-to-nose, he was already so close, and there was that certain kind of gleam in his eyes... Frustration bubbling over, Daniella knew even in her current state that if they weren't already on the bed, her knees might have turned into jelly. Or jam.

Jam was good. Unless it was apple. Apple jam was gross.

"I..." Having downed almost a whole bottle of the hard stuff (one educated guess thinking it might have been tequila), rubbing up and down in a manner that was suspiciously close to a wet dry hump, she was... susceptible to the idea.

Fueled by booze, bad thoughts that didn't know how to sort themselves, and a whole host of fluctuating emotions that couldn't be trusted, Daniella didn't fight it as her body drew closer to the source of her torment. As the one constant in a whirlpool of bullshit, he had been the one to see her through everything. Maybe if she didn't think of it in terms of him being who he was, he could hold her down through this storm.

"Fine," hiccuping loudly, the heiress gave one final thought to separating man from the nearly flawless image she had built up of the thief that stole too much, "just 'member that this is a hate fuck, not a like fuck."

He chuckled, thumb brushing against the inside of her wrist as he agreed, "I know, baby girl, I hear ya loud and clear."

"Serious, there won't be a second time." Head bouncing lightly from side-to-side to a banger of a song that wasn't playing, it was unclear if she was shaking her head or nodding.

Playing at being earnest, the conman did what he did best, telling the girl exactly what she wanted to hear. It wasn't as if it were a lie, per say. "I said I got the message."

* * *

 **Author's Note** :

So many Author's Notes! I was hoping I wouldn't need to put one in all these chapters I've been putting up, but eh, it is what it is. This time I feel strongly compelled to talk about Sam. Maybe I'm just out of the groove, still shaking the rust out, but I feel like I'm only scratching the surface. Granted I usually carry the weight of 'am I getting X character right?', but this time I'm trying to juggle it with several years of off-screen development. Did he develop from where he left him in Lost Legacy? I think so, even if only a little bit. But truthfully we don't know, so that's a lot to juggle for a writer of my skill. Or maybe all writers? No clue, and I won't be so presumptuous.

Also, the plot. Believe it or not, for most of these chapters I envision (up to a point) where things will lead. Like Sam and Dells ending up back in their hotel room due to the rain. Originally my plan was to have Sam plan out a kind of scavenger hunt with little clues or stories that would have led up to Rafe's death. Between all the work that would have required and taking what, a year or more, it just kind of evolved out of my hands. I don't mind these changes happening organically, but come on, how many damn times is it going to rain in this story? Well, barring that idea of a future re-write, I can't/won't change what has happened (intentionally, but seriously, with almost 60 chapters, there's probably going to be a little discrepancy somewhere), so all there is is to go forward. To try to do better!

Sorry for the tangent. Maybe I'm venting because I'm tried, or maybe its just cathartic, but here we are.

More importantly, another round of thanks to _dragon-queen98_ for the second review!

Also, this chapter took longer than I would have liked, going through twelve too many drafts. Hopefully it was worth it!

Also also, never have I been in a drunken hate-fuck type situation, so that's all just what I think might happen. Except there would probably be less thought. And less talking. Because spoilers, that's where things are building.


	60. It's A Little Unhealthy

**\- Chapter Fifty-Five -**

 **It's A Little Unhealthy**

 **[Warning: explicit content]**

Lips gnashing together with animalistic intent, Sam had used his fair share of warm bodies for pleasure before this, so he was no stranger to how this worked. _Wham, bam, thank you ma'am_.

 _Except, there was something about Dells that disqualified her from being just another one-night stand._ All the ingredients were there, yet...

Abandoning all traces of tenderness to show his fair lady the standard, Sam kissed Daniella roughly in a way that he hadn't before. Harder than anything you would see in a church, _he_ could feel her toes curling. Fingers flexing and knotting through his shirt, she bit her lower lip when they parted, unsure how to ask for more. After all, this was just some old-fashioned casual sex.

Right?

Torn between pinning her down for real and going straight for the kill, he couldn't put the fact that this was Dells completely from his mind. Naive, sweet little Dells.

Vodka Gods and their contingent of bourbon spirits blessing the shy little mouse, the amber heavens imparted one gift, and only the one. Granted the liquid courage of the most promiscuous (or perhaps she was just that cold after all that time in front of the window), she wiggled out of her top, shedding the second skin with purpose. A voice in the back of her head wondered if maybe she shouldn't do this, but she quieted it by answering to the even louder roaring of her pulse. Jose Cuervo knocking her off her balance, she bumped into her graying wolf more than she'd intended, but there was no complaining about the end result.

Chloe's borrowed scarf still wound loosely around her neck, the man tugged at the fabric until it unraveled completely. Briefly considering using it to tie the naughty girl up later, he discarded the material on the pillow. Figuring that she would possibly be game if she wasn't unconscious by that point, he placed his mouth where the knitting had been, marking what was his. It might have been a temporary thing, yes, but that didn't mean it had to be a secret.

Pink and coated in someone else's saliva, the mark was definitely going to be bright enough to see in the proper light. And she was okay with that. Today it was because the mark had come from someone she cared about, an intimate sign of connection. Tomorrow, it would be proof that this had really happened.

Grinning dopily in the dark, she was elated that he couldn't see the look on her face. It was way too starry-eyed little waif for her own liking. In fact, if she could, Daniella probably would have punched herself in the face if she could see her dumb stupid face.

Left laying there in just her bra, Daniella brought his hand to the cool-but-not-quite-damp material, something akin to a demand on her tongue when he should have been. "I want you to get meh off like you did last night. But not with yer fingers, I wanna you to do it with yerr dick this time."

 _Ok, maybe not so innocent after all_.

"Hang on darlin'," cocky stride in full swing because he wasn't really listening to her words, Sam traced the pastel strap holding everything in place and gave it a hearty snap, "that sounds like something you should ask your boyfriend."

Glancing down at the glowing red stinger with blurry double-vision, she rolled her shoulders and merely shrugged the skimpy fabric off, "Says tha one callin' meh darling."

"It's an expression."

Mirth one thing on his face, the adventurer could have laughed at how many times he had said that exact thing in his life. But he didn't. Instead, the grizzled explorer meant to live up to his job title, pulling once more at that little lacy thing until there were no secrets from his ravenous gaze. Etiquette dictated that things had to be done a certain way - Dells would appreciate his adherence to general guidelines, no? - but that didn't mean that he couldn't take a little extra time to enjoy the sights.

Bashful like a good little girl ought to be, there was a moment where Dells attempted to shy away, arching her back to hide against her savior and torment.

"Sure ya wanna do this, baby girl?" Whispering into her hair, his lips brushed her scalp. Mindful of everything she had been through these past weeks, he wasn't going to push her further than she was willing to go. Risk of blue balls real, it just wasn't what he was about.

Grateful to the man for that, the heiress nodded against his throat. It sounded like she mumbled 'thank you', but for all he knew it just as well could have been 'spank you'. If that was the case, it was something he'd take under consideration. Until then, he eased her backwards, prodding the shoulder that hadn't been screwed open by a demented sociopath.

Two birds of a feather on that one, she would probably carry the scar for the rest of her life. More tender than the circumstances warranted, Sam brushed his lips over the scar tissue, offering a much needed confidence boost. But that was the last time - this was supposed to be an angry, heat-of-the-moment type of affair after all.

Plain cotton sheets catching the brunt of the bounce, it was the resulting jiggle that caught Sam's eye. Pert and still youthful, each breast was an island that had yet to see the sun, the sea frozen around tawny cats eyes. Never doubting how real everything was for even a moment, there were no unsightly surgical scars or strange fillings. Everything was natural, but he wouldn't have minded too much if there had been a little work done.

"Not too shabby," palming the modest mountain with his left hand, he flicked the darling little bud on the right, earning a light whimper of mounting suspense, "very nice."

Saddled with the responsibility of remembering safety first, as the one sober adult in the room it fell on his broad shoulders to act on more than impulse. Leaving his partner on the bed to hunt down one of her miniature bombs, the impatient gent reached over for the prophylactic that he had previously thrown aside.

Kinda like a scavenger hunt in the dark, he was surprised when she touched his hand. No doubt aiming for the wrist or some innocuous higher place, the blonde shook her bleached locks in glum reverie. Or as close as a drunk that had sprung up too fast could get to reverie. Honestly she really did look like she might hurl at any minute.

 _Eh, I'll take the risk_. He'd done worse than a bit of puke before.

"Not the watermelons one."

"What's that now?" Leaning closer to the feminine figure highlighted in the darkness, the quick-tonged gambler couldn't hide the smirk he wore if he tried, "Afraid you won't like it?"

Dells shook her head once more, sliding her hand off the man, "No, it's not that..."

Agitating the issue like he always did, Sam rapt lightly on her knee, knuckles grazing the bandages that would be there for quite some time to come. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't you the one that said we wouldn't do this again?"

Eyes threatening that they wouldn't do it now if he kept up like he was, she clarified through a thickening slur only so that they could move on, "It reminds meh too much of Jay."

"Jay?" Wondering if that was just something to make him jealous, Drake couldn't remember that name being mentioned before, although there was so much history crammed up inside his skull sometimes it was hard to keep personal details straight. Shrugging it off, he stalked off to get one of the other discarded rubbers littering the floor. Hopefully the next one he grabbed wouldn't be melon flavored.

"My teacherer. Asshole..." fixing Sam with a queer stare as if she were contemplating what type of species he was, the heiress cocked her head to the side, correcting herself, "Other asshole's the reason I know how to put one of those," cue the quaking index meant for the little plastic things he was fumbling for in the artificial night, "on without using my hands."

Flaring up anew for a minute there, she sounded as if she were conflicted about saying more or leaving it there.

Following the man through the dark with her eyes at first, Dells rose to her feet and began to fight with her pants while he scoured the floor. Wondering if that was somehow her fault (it definitely was), the heiress lapsed into her shattered lullaby, muttering it underneath her breath. It sounded like she was saying a lot, boring holes through the gray-blue gloom.

Quite probably the least sexy hotel room hook-up in recent memory - nay, history - once she was free of the confines of her sinful clothing, the young woman practically sprinted the length of the room. Clinging to Sam from behind the way a child does when frightened by a thunderstorm, it wasn't the weather that sent her flying. Holding him tight, she smothered herself into his spinal column while her hands acquainted themselves with his waist. Sly as her thief was in his heyday, Daniella's grip was suddenly not the innocent way a child would act, all triple x stuff as her fingers fumbled numbly with his belt loop.

Belt loops not the same thing as zippers in the slightest, she was almost thwarted before she began. Heroics for the birds, after a small intermission she found her way to the right spot, unfastening the metal one agonizing pop after another. Luckily there were only the two, and the zipper was willing to cooperate.

"Hmm, this is why I like skirts better..." Muttering a curse to the inventor of jeans, whoever that was, the woman supposed it was a better alternative than seeing too much skin on a guy. Still, getting a fly down shouldn't have been as complicated as cracking Fort Knox.

Solely to get the ball rolling faster, she thought it might be a good idea to try a little conversational foreplay. Dirty talk? Raising both brows and puckering her lips, she scrunched up her face and barreled on, "Did you know I used to blow my teacherer?"

Changing tracks halfway through, she dipped her big toe into the sad side of drunk, "Not for the grades, but 'cause he was really good-looking. Like, really, really hot. He coulda been a model, he was so fine-"

Annoyed now, Sam lobbed one of the melons at the girl, "Alright, I get it."

Blinking at the condom about an hour after it fell at her feet, she hadn't been trying to make any particular point. Jay was just a really good-looking guy. A complete asshole, but damn if he wasn't all kinds of sexy. However, if she had to pick, it would have been Sam. Every day of the week.

"We never..." forming a deformed circle with one hand, Dells penetrated it with the other, managing just barely to make the universal sign for intercourse, "...but he wanted meh. No many people wanted meh back where I'm for."

 _For?_ Shit, if her language skills were slipping that low, they might not even have twenty minutes. There went about half the stuff he wanted to do.

Sad little rose bursting into flame, she began to tug on his shirt, helping him to remove it. "Not like you."

Name a growl and growl a warning, he pushed her off, directing her back over to the bed with a bit of a nudge. Getting the clue faster this time, she shook her head once more and slunk down on her knees, crawling cat-like on the floor until she was perfectly between his legs. Placing her hand over his thigh and slipping his jeans down low enough for what they were about to do, she looked up at him from behind her lashes, the settling dark too heavy to make out the exact look on her face.

Oh, he wanted her alright, there was no disputing that.

"Bah hooom," speaking into his throbbing member like it was some sort of fleshy microphone, she used the vibrations of her voice to their max effect, "tey aated mawh-mawh."

Going in and out of the first two verses of the lullaby from earlier, the pseudo blonde licked her lips as she produced one of the non-watermelon flavored condoms from underneath her foot. _Because of course, fuck him for trying_. Tearing into the wrapper and extracting the pale circle, she showed Sam the sum of her efforts, that she wasn't all talk. Kneading his fingers through her scalp, he let her know that her ministrations were appreciated.

Tongue twirling across the latex one moment to lubricate his penis the next, the student learner used his legs for support. Flicking, darting, roving, and generally just slathering the mast for the cruise, the liquor was making her sloppier than usual, but that wasn't entirely a bad thing.

Shaft fully erect just for her, the heiress unfurled the ivory halo with gusto, bobbing her head until everything was in place. There was probably a better time for showing off this way, although since this was supposed to be their last go, it was now or never. _It had nothing to do in the slightest with her innate desire to please the male figures in her life. Like her daddy, Shen, Jay, and even Jun to some extent._

"Tey rhweeally aated maah..." dropping it prematurely, they knew who she meant. Pace going quicker now than before, she barely had time to run her fingers along own her slit. "Baa thaw-" grunting, Dells sped up and danced in a tight circle, "thaw oonne twhing tey aated mhoos oof aaah, whaas... whaas meh."

"And now you hate me." Bringing it back full circle, Sam plucked the girl off with some small reluctance and ushered her back to the bed with more instance. Between his poor back and her generally battered frame, he liked the height provided and she would be thankful for the cushion.

 _Girl really might just be the death of me_. Although if this was how he died, Sam couldn't complain too much.

Dells was pretty skilled at her schooling, but he wanted more than just some head; worked into a state at the cusp of being considered a frenzy, he wouldn't be satisfied until he got to put it in. Not a magician himself, he was rather fond of a certain kind of vanishing act.

Wasting no more time than necessary, the minute she was in position on the mattress he was at her back, pressed against her entrance until they were nearly sealed into one complete being. Perking up at the grunt earned from the act of insertion, they were in mutual agreement that what they were doing left no room for sentimental attachment. This was hate sex, pure as that.

Unabashed, she declared with a conviction that was not her own, "That's right," groaning out a twenty-ninth letter of the alphabet, the restraint vanished alongside his length, "I do."

Fit still tighter than tight, having Sam inside didn't hurt quite as much as it had last night, however their haste and positions compensated poorly for any relief she might have found. On the verge of consoling herself that there would be room for practice, Dells bit the inside of her lip, realizing a half a heart-beat later that there wouldn't be another this. Another fix.

Dad's already rolling in his grave, but surely someone up in the family tree can understand why she was doing this. Right? Right?!

"Use your big girl words." Croaking into the shell of her ear, he reached around with one hand to cup her breast, bouncing freely with each jerking motion of their bodies.

"I hate you," Daniella knew even as it tumbled out of her mouth that it wasn't strictly true, but if he found that out they might stop, and she really didn't want that. "Oh, I hate you!" Crashing into her body like the thunder and lightening lashing through the sky and across the empty beaches, Sam leaned into it, biting her back as he pounded deeper and deeper into her core. Thinking it might bring out something more in the man, she switched to a language he was passingly familiar with and said more of the same.

Creeping ever closer to his limit, Sam made use of his other hand as they collapsed into the bed. Pinching the top of her swollen nub and caressing it with the roughest part of his thumb, he thrust harder and deeper into the young woman than before. It felt so sweet being inside of her, like a slow melody. Neither wanted it to stop, the high that made them soar to the sky and beyond, but every song had to end sometime.

"I hate what you did," absolutely out of breath at this point, the third of her that was still awake was clamoring for more, "an I hate what you make meh feel." More honest than she intended, a horrible thought occurred to Daniella.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

I'm super tired from staying up to get this chapter finished too (see my usual warning about releasing updates one on top of the other). And I get really, really embarrassed writing smutty stuff, so yeah, not lingering on this chapter any more than I have to.

Hope everyone is having a wonderful day :D


	61. You're A Right Cut-Up, Mate

**\- Chapter Fifty-Five and A Half -**

 **You're A Right Cut-Up, Mate**

 **[Cutting The Girl Some Slack]**

Surfboards and kayaks largely to thank for her muscle tone, there was no training on earth that could prepare the Thunder and Lightening for carrying enough books for two students. Arms heavy with the brick-like tomes as she lugged them from her locker to her mom's minivan, Cassie shifted the weight as she hopped over an underclassman's hopscotch outline. There was a sea of students rushing to get out of the building as quickly as they could, and she would bet that not one of them had to study as much as she did.

But that was the deal: Cassie could only join her parents on their expeditions if her grades were good, and the only way that happened was if she doubled-down.

Mostly that meant doing assignments in advanced, although there were one or two teachers that were harder to get around. Mrs. Vickers, for example - she demanded not only proof that her student was where she said she would be, but also that Cassie do an extra essay to compensate for being unable to help in a group project. Both of her parents were in agreement that that was totally fair, so they would always grill her about doing her homework.

Expect on her birthday.

That whole week was always a special occasion, marked with a laxer set of rules and capping off with an epic bash to remember. All her friends from school would be invited, and even a few from the various camps she'd been to, although she suspected that that was more so her parents had ample excuse to spend time with their own friends. The adults were pleasant enough, but they usually hung out in the back.

Ali would probably hang out in the fringes too, but since he was so bookish and private that was hardly anything new. Joey on the other hand...

Joey was basically the same age as she was, but the last time he'd visited with his dad, the brat was too good to hang out with her and her friends. He said he was just more mature than they were, but she knew that was load of bullshit.

Err, crap.

Honestly she didn't understand why her folks were so bent on her language when they were sounded by utter filth dispensaries, but whatever, their house, their rules. At least Sully and her uncle were cool about her using some of the less offensive words. And Chloe... She practically encouraged it, teaching the bespectacled blonde new slang every time she stopped by. _Man, if Dad knew half the stuff his friend had taught his precious baby girl._..

"Over here!" Leaning across the lap of one of the other passengers, the dark-haired Aussie called out for the girl.

Speak of the Devil.

Grinning from ear-to-ear, Cassie practically flew into the open door of the van. Discarding her books on the floor with all the other junk, she sprang into the open arms of her cool auntie from down under. Nadine winced as the little blonde scrambled over her, but the scowl softened almost as soon as one of those scrawny little arms was wrapped around her neck too.

"Alright, alright." Not the overly mushy sort, the stern woman patted the girl's back.

Squeezing for dear life before letting go to settle in next to Chloe, the door closed with a loud grinding noise. Her dad groaned at the sound, no doubt making a mental note to do something about the car. Mom had probably already asked her uncle to give it a look, but considering he was so busy with his plus one, it had probably slipped his mind.

Maybe Rafael knew something about cars? He'd done a pretty good job patching her up after she had fallen out of that tree at the park. And he'd already done so much to help out at the house, like keeping everyone fed. If it wasn't her birthday, Cass would probably award him as the MVP of the month. Possibly next time. _If there was a next time_...

Cassie hoped so. Rafael kept to himself for the most part, offering to help when he could and cracking jokes (almost exclusively at her uncle's expense), but he was alright. Teaching her a few new tricks in Crash, they had lost more than an hour playing video games together. Plus, Vicky liked him, and that alone was enough for her.

"Jesus, they make you read all of those?" A dove-gray toe nudged the books, "That should qualify as breaking child labor law."

Nadine agreed, "Ja. Even I didn't have to read that much over a weekend."

Blinking at one another in unison, neither adult knew what to say to that. It made all kinds of sense that the woman had had a strict upbringing, but to actually have to read that much over a single weekend... Cassie suddenly felt a lot better at her cushy deadlines.

Broken as they all were, it was her dad who recovered first, "No, Nadine, she doesn't have to finish all of these books at once. Cassie is just bringing them home so she can read them while we're down in the Gulf."

"Oh. What are you lot going down to the Gulf for?" Asking in earnest, Nadine really didn't know.

Talking shop, Cass had heard it a million times before, so she kind of tuned out the rest of the conversation. Catching on, Chloe pulled at her elbow and whispered in a hushed tone so that they weren't overheard, "You're not going to finish your homework until you guys get back, are you?"

Caught and busted, it wasn't entirely a secret that she was known to procrastinate. Making sure that her father was busy running his mouth about what D & F hoped to dig up this time, the girl nodded in confidence, "Not exactly..."

"Just so long as you have fun, eh?" Chloe smiled, "And don't forget to take lots of pictures."

 **[Alright, Who Cut The Power?]**

Boards lined up on the beach for easy access, the traitorous wind kicked up the alabaster sand like a toddler throws a tantrum. Grains spiraling in the salty air, the waves themselves roared like some ancient monster was due to rise out of the depths at any moment. Sky still an open-faced azure, over on the far side of the island there was a gathering unlike any other, a blueberry cotton candy swirl right out of the machine.

Fairly certain that they wouldn't be impacted by the tropic storm where they were, Joseph's mother waded through the shallow end of the sea. Her snorkel was a bright enough yellow to see beneath even the blackest of tides, so there was no chance they could lose her.

A little further inland, Joey scratched his growing wheat fringe, chocolate eyes rolling as his dad told some lame joke that didn't bear repeating. Baldy swinging from the hammock with a beer, Ali had his nose shoved into some fantasy novel, pretending that he was too engrossed to hear their old man.

Volunteering to cater to everyone while Elena was at work and Nathan was picking up the twerp, that Rafael guy was in the kitchen, whipping up snacks. He mentioned something about the food being for everyone once Cassie and them came back, but it had been hard to hear from her room.

Not that he was in there long! Just long enough to grab her guitar. Which she was probably total crap at playing anyways.

Strumming the cords to a song he had heard on one of his dad's old movies, Joey just barely glanced up as the sandwiches were brought out. He wasn't all that hungry, and anyways it would have been bad form to burrow the instrument without permission _and_ gunk up the strings.

"Right, food's here!" Clapping his hands together with glee, the old man reached for one of the B.L.T.s with a grateful salute.

Lowering his book some, Ali glanced at the orange serving tray and then up at the one bearing it. Closing his book with a light snap, the elder Cutter brother dug in as well, his words half a mumble, "Thank you."

Simple as that, the other man nodded, "Let me know if you need anything else."

Despite being hoarse from disuse, Rafael seemed to hear him well enough; selecting the seat nearest the recluse, he grabbed a tuna for himself, one of three. Apparently he was a considerate guy, making a variety that might appease everyone's taste.

Maybe too considerate, for a private security goon.

Granted, he wasn't nearly as intimate with the type as some of the others in the family circle, but Joey had known enough of them to be fairly certain that they wouldn't just leave their job wander off. Sure, Sam Drake was good enough to watch out for some bimbo with a plastic card, but that wasn't the issue. The issue was that she was being left alone period.

None of them had been introduced to this Ella chick just yet, but already he suspected that there was more going on than any of them were being told. Frankly given the absence of Sam and this mystery socialite, he figured that they were holed up someplace - probably a hotel so she could sweat out whatever her addiction was before they had to meet everyone. These rich girls always seemed to be in and out of rehab.

"Hey," ambling out of the house and away from the new flat screen, Sullivan called everyone in, "you guys might want to get Mary-Elizabeth out of the water. Weather service say that there's a storm brewing, and it is gonna be a dozy."

Just as soon as he said that, the power grid crashed to a chorus of deep-throated bullfrogs from hell.


	62. Maybe It's A Lot Unhealthy

**\- Chapter Fifty-Six -**

 **Maybe It's A Lot Unhealthy**

Easily mid-day, a certain kind of quietness had fallen when there should have been a bevy of other noises. Brightly colored birds soaring through a cornflower sky any other day, there ought to have been splendid feathers splayed in twice as many hues as they had warbled and twitters. Land ever expanding to accommodate the booming population, maybe there was construction for some neighboring project or even an expansion to the hotel itself. There were always guests filing in and out, tourists and locals, so why not tack on a fancy new suite?

On that note, instead of a droll afternoon in, they should have been able to hear honeymooners through the walls. A real, actual couple; not just two hurting people looking for a shred of solace, a slice of normalcy and companionship that fled every time either one of them turned around. Too personal? That last example sounded a tad too personal.

For whatever noises there should have been in the background, the fledgling storm didn't care. Nothing against the scope of nature, there were only two things Sam could make out: the most prominent of which was the silvery sheets of rain lashing across the building. Thunder bellyaching across the land, in a bizarre way, it was almost homey.

 _Because that was completely normal_.

Power still out with no indication that it would be back anytime soon, the chaser of chalices and Chaucer was glad that they had made it to cover when they had. Not quite bad enough to look like a hurricane, trying to find a suitable spot to hunker down for the duration of the storm would have been worse than a nightmare. Although on paper no place was perfect.

Safe and cozy in bed, even under the covers the room had grown chilly. Built to be airy, being on a tropical island getaway there was only so much need for heat. Although even summer nights could get cold, so every room boasted that it came with a heater (and an overhead fan for the other end of the spectrum). Whether or not they worked properly another matter, any such device was worthless without electricity to run it.

Inky indigo throughout, the ashen halo had long since faded into the gloom, nothing brighter than an icy silhouette visible in the wan light. Her silhouette, fingers frozen over a wintry lake. Strewn about as if they were tracks through the permafrost, the folds in the spearmint sheets ran deep; Daniella had griped the fabric for dear life as consciousness fled, and even in sleep she held fast.

"Dells, you awake?" Voice small against the backdrop of heaven's tantrum, there wasn't much of a reason to ask when she was down for the count.

Coming down from his own high, the thief couldn't help but be drawn to the summation of the Adler fortune.

Hair tousled in a very unseemly fashion, the newly loped strands tickled her shoulders prior to having the blankets pulled up to her head. Caught beneath the crisp fabric, were the lights not out he might have caught the golden mane shifting from bleached platinum to ashen ectoplasm. Too tangled to be called straight, sweat had knotted entire sections (grabbing her head directly probably hadn't helped). Although the lying Lothario didn't have an overly strong preference one way or another, the man was visited by a flash of the dark brown curls he had seen standing in his door that first night.

 _It had been raining then too_ , he recalled. What was it about Daniella that seemed to attract a steady downpour? More a blend of gray and blue than a true shade of either, there wasn't anything else in nature that came remotely close to being the same color as the heiress's sapphires.

Blue steel not the only remarkable hue about the young woman, the collection of marks her body was accruing did no favors. Too much tan - all courtesy of alabaster medical gauze and naked bandages - the rainbow of wounds varied from the rosy pink of healing tissue to the battered brown of old bruises. Sure, there was a little yellow-green where the restraints had dug in, but mostly it was all a show of purple, mauve, and plum. Half accidental, from any angle he gazed at the girl, there was at least one that was all him.

Hickeys something he thought he'd left behind in the 80's, for one fleeting moment the heiress wasn't her own... Mouth hovering over the back of her shoulder longer than it needed to, teeth scrapping almost cannibalistically across that pretty expanse of flesh, nearly everything in his brain had been switched off. Everything, apart from the primal urge to leave his mark.

Too drunk to think of their afternoon delight as more than what it was, the masterclass in disaster had murmured something like approval. Not entirely a promise, the sultry song she sang was more than a whisper, a kind of acknowledgement that in their moment, their two bodies were liquid fire. A carnal sin glazed in lost gold, white-hot heat from a blue flame that consumed all.

Without putting too fine a point on it, the heiress was not Rafael's, nor the next one that came along to sweep her off her unbalanced feet. For just that one instant, she wasn't even Rafe's.

From the moment they tripped into bed until the union of liquor and pain won the war, Daniella was all his. Ensnared so much sooner before that, if he hadn't known any better, Sam might have thought that the impressionable young woman was not unlike an addict. _Hooked on the drama, hooked on sweet numbness, hooked on him_. Knowing a thing or two about the struggle and the fall, it was hardly a mystery how a young, bright thing like her had ended up where dreams went to die.

Still navy throughout the room, there was some small relief that he couldn't really see the young woman.

Nestled snug as a bug in a rug against the dimpled headboard, as Sam struggled to relax in the sound of silence, the man kept coming back to one thing: nicotine. More than anything else, a cigarette would have been nice. Great, if not downright divine in fact. Not exactly a member of the quitter's circuit these days, the problem was that the package was tucked away in his pocket... and thanks to a certain event, his clothes were scattered across the other side of the room. Out in the cold.

Smoke denied the historian, Sam's mind began to wander as he laid in bed with the heiress.

First it was off to the races, his brain clinging desperately to the numbers and statistics from the day; anything - _literally anything_ \- was better than to focus on the lack of nicotine. Odds, evens, probabilities, and even down to the receipt from the vendor today, there was no stone left unturned.

After the betting pools and figures had run into one melted plastic mass, Francis Drake's alleged descendant turned to the future. More specifically, his niece's birthday. Would Cassie really like her gift? With only an afternoon free to shop on short notice, there was only so much that he could do until he was able to get her a proper present. Daniella had tried, but in her defense the teen was in a bit of a stupor, mind frozen to a point at some specific time or place.

 _Which time, which place_? Questioning if he was even in a position to wonder that much, his thoughts shifted to what the others might make of the young woman.

Ella, they said her name was. A little too close to Daniella, but at least it would be simple enough to remember - personally Sam found that it was easier to remember your lie when you anchored it to a truth.

Wanted by some very bad people for witnessing something she shouldn't have, she was a socialite that he had agreed to protect in addition to her usual bodyguard, Rafael. It was a story that might fool the likes of Mary-Elizabeth, but that was about it. Cutter and his boys were sharper than that, they would almost definitely see through the disguise... But would they approve?

... Did his senses fail, or was the quiet part of the eternal bachelor's brain seriously just pondering if his family friends would like a girl he brought home? Chalking it up to being tired and stressed, Sam waved that line of thought on. As an adult, he'd invited plenty of dates to family functions like this in the past, and never once had he stopped to wonder how the plus one would be received.

Besides, Daniella wasn't those women.

"Dells?"

Not likely to get an answer any time soon, Sam shimmed down the headrest and deeper into the covers. Closer to the young woman, every part of her radiating a very welcome heat. But it was only because of the warmth that he latched on to her prone figure.

Curled into the one place it was most likely to receive some semblance of shelter, it was almost sad that her body intuitively knew she could depend on the bed more than...

Raised with two parents in the international 'business' world, traveling would have played a big part of her life. Daddy holed up in the Saint Dismas cathedral and the shrew she called mom making deals all over the globe, it only made sense that Daniella's formative years had been spent sleeping in some grand penthouse, the housing country changing night after night.

To the Dells he knew, that hollow image of home was just that, an image. Hopping from one lavish suite to the next was her reality, at least until Bai had finally decided to leave the child to the nanny. Before that time eventually came, that form of living might have been one of the few stable things she had known since Scotland. That is, if she had ever known anything remotely stable.

Pulse thickened to a steady crawl, there wasn't the slightest reaction as Sam wrapped his arm across her bare collarbone and sunk into her side. Thumb brushing over the crusted scab on her shoulder, his chin rested on her clavicle, nose close enough to bury into her scalp. Fingers loose yet needy, with the smallest twist in her hips it wasn't long before the young woman was bent into the shape he needed, her spine curved against his torso.

So much closer than they would have been otherwise, like this, it was natural. _Natural_... Eyes cast down to drink in the shape of the heiress as she slept off the early stages of her inevitable hangover, as he held her in his arms, Sam wished once more for another cigarette.

 _Knock, knock_.

Matter of fact, the rapt on the wood could only be called smart, the product of a calculated, born professional. Naturally his mind went to it being hotel staff, room service with credit and an apology for the prolonged power outage. Maybe even some sort of time frame of when to expect the lights to come back on, but at this point a (paid) profound sorry would have sufficed.

Quite possibly it might have been one of the gang, his little brother or one of the other career criminals coming to check in. That seemed less likely though, given that his phone still had enough battery life to receive calls.

Granted with how full his hands had been, the man might have missed said call, but knowing Nathan, he would have tried at least twice if it was important. From what he'd heard, his little brother had done his damnedest to stay on frequency with Sullivan when they were on the field. Having Cassie had only sharped that 'gotta stay in touch' mentality, and that had come from Elena. Being the next offender on the list of suspects, Chloe would have blown his phone up just to be Chloe. Because of course she would, the scamp.

 _Five more minutes_. Everyone who ever slept in ever, the grizzled brunette was reluctant to part from the toasty embers of embrace.

Despite how one-sided their position currently was, Daniella fit like a glove. Warmed like one too. Everything was comfortable where it was, from the firm feather pillow to the second heat source snuggled complacently against his chest. The exact opposite of copping a feel, this was nice too, bordering on something he could see himself getting used to.

 _Although this was probably important, whatever it was_.

Were his life something that could be replayed again and again for entertainment value, what happened next could be the subject of an eternal debate amongst the prospective fandom. Maybe not on the level of a pop culture war being necessary, but if one cared enough to obsess over the details with a fine-toothed comb...

Protest louder than any storm, the weary bones of the adventurer popped as he slipped out of the bed. Each joint creaking, the sweat that had previously coated his body had turned against him, adding to the congealing coldness that spread without mercy. Suppressing a shiver out of habit, nothing he had experienced in Panama could scratch the surface of what he felt now.

Stiff in a way that was neither entirely good nor bad, it felt as if he had been put through his paces. Maybe showing off a little, on the chance that that really was going to be the last time, Sam wanted to be memorable - he might have been the first, but that didn't mean he had to set the bar low.

"Allow me." Speaking to Co-ed Barbie as if she could respond in kind, Sam swung around his side of the bed. Feet hitting the cheap imitation wood that made this possible, he paused for just a moment.

Moment worth questioning a trick of the camera, there were only so many editing tricks that could have helped. Gently patting the top of the covers, the thief rose.

Balance an old friend that wasn't ready to open the front door for their guest, the active historian fumbled his way to the end table for the spare pack of smokes before anything else. There was absolutely no way in hell that he was going to be bothered to search out his lighter; Sam just desired the familiarity. _The little taste of nicotine that was slowly leading him to his grave with its poison kiss_. Placing the limp white cylinder between his lips, he listened for the person outside the door.

 _Knock, knock_. Whoever it was, they were tenacious.

Life having no hand in it whatsoever, the elder Drake brother was suspicious by trade. Family too close for comfort should things go south, this was kinda like a soft vacation, so the man was in no mood to deal with work. Or taking the extra time it would require to get dressed.

Lingering in the invisible mist that was seeping through the bones of man and building alike, it was not fun being exposed in such a manner. Not to mention what a hassle it would have been to bumble through the blackness in order to find his clothes. It might not have been the favorite solution/compromise, but there was a perfectly good robe hanging on a peg in the bathroom.

 _Knock, knock_. There was definitely less space between the knocking now.

Thoroughly annoyed at that juncture, he wasn't even the one that would be hearing every tiny sound like it was a jackhammer in the city. _Jesus_!

Cigarettes and booze in enough places around the temporary living arrangement, while it was nothing compared to how well he had stocked his last room, there was a surprise in just about every corner. Drawing the heavy metal piece he'd stashed from the inside of hotel property, the ex-con hid the gun behind the frame as he reached for the door.

Too dark for a peephole anyways, Sam braced himself for the worst. Going taut as the string of a longbow, before twisting the knob he lobbed a worried glance back over his shoulder. In the light, the bed was almost a straight shot from the door. Anyone with even half decent aim could inflict heavy damage in a blindfire, although this didn't feel like one of those types of situations. If it were, the bullets would have been fired already.

Still, he didn't like it.

 _Knock_ -

Face within an inch of replacing the aluminum alloy, the grizzled gentleman escorting the younger woman really wished that he had just stayed in bed. Twice as much as he'd wished for anything else in this past hour or so, easily. And it went without saying how bad he was jonsing for a legitimate smoke.

 _Why me_? Toasty in the midst of a damp, stormy void, the view wasn't awful, even if his mind was beginning to wander down avenues it probably shouldn't.

Unlit cigarette dipping in his jaw, for all his speculating the thief hadn't thought to expect anyone he knew. Let alone the fierce mother tigress of the barely legal cub he had squirreled way.

"Bai!"

Perfume weighing the damp air down even further, there was positively no mistaking the stench of Chanel number Bitch and jasmine. The high pile of star-struck ebony almost a trademark at this point, the prim cut of her suit was dapper even without the means of being able to fully appreciate the detail.

"You're here!" Voice an octave away from his equivalent of a squeak, even in a state of genuine surprise, the lanky lout thought himself capable of only being able to muster up a barb-wired exchange when it involved such an infuriating individual.

Although the world would probably end up being a better place for it, he set the gun on the circular end table before shots were fired. Most anyone else could bite that the murder would have been an accident, but the man figured that he had probably done enough to the girl for one day. Especially where her parents were concerned.

Hastily edging to obscure the tangle of sheet and limb on the bed, he discovered that the wooden floor had yet to absorb the puddle of unopened whiskey from last night. _Or had it been bourbon_? There were too many moving pieces to be bothered by such an inconsequential detail, although if it came back up he might find a minute to mourn. Gingerly stepping through the slick mess on the ground, Sam slithered around the vertical divide and shut the door at his back with a curt snap.

Far from meaning it kindly, he opted to rephrase himself with the hope that the land shark was too far up her own ass to notice anything suspicious. "Not that there isn't someone somewhere that wouldn't be tickled pink to see you, what the hell are you doing here?!"

 _Here, as in just outside the hotel room where your little girl is recovering from all the major pitfalls of adolescence at once_.

Reflective shine nigh otherworldly, another dead give away to the fact that it was Rafe's baby mama was the woman's glasses. Silvery highlight obscuring maybe five percent of the raw hatred in her eyes, the businesswoman was not happy. Doubtful that she ever was, Bai screamed the type of person that had genuinely only had three or four truly great days in their lives.

Displeasure indisputable, the woman wrinkled her nose and shook her head like she was looking at the Yelp page of a new business, trying to decided on the worst possible review to give. "Took you long enough."

Evidently the man of ambition had been looking at this natural semi-disaster the wrong way. Not to discredit facts or faith the full one hundred percent, initially the weather had seemed like what a good Catholic boy might refer to as an act of God. Made sense in a way, coming out of nowhere and striking the peasants blind when science ought to have brightened the world. However, that was wrong: now that Bai was there, Sam knew this lasting dark to be of the devil herself.

Body barring entrance to the scene of the crime, Sam leaned against the portal casually, sparing just a moment to search for a lighter that wasn't there. "Well," he gave up the hunt, moving the cigarette to behind his ear for later, "someone had to make sure that it wasn't anyone looking to hurt our girl."

Already dismissed in the woman's spectacled eyes, Bai didn't stop to ponder those words. In her head, there was a thief and the cash cow the heiress represented. Whatever else she may have believed happened between the two up until that point, it wasn't worth taking under consideration. "Speaking of, where is that girl?"

Lie falling into place, Drake shrugged with smug nonchalance to match what he got, "She's not here."

Ears ringing with an almighty death dirge, that troublesome one Rafe had picked up from Panama failed her, causing a deep frown to stretch across her confident countenance. If he wasn't protecting her daughter, what good had it been bringing him in on this job? She had called Sam for a reason...

Speaking of Sam, Bai looked at the man for the first time. Really looked.

In her twisted mind there wasn't a moment in recorded history that Sam Drake wasn't the bottom of the barrel. _No, he was lower than that, the parasite on the barnacle that fastened itself to the broken cask_. His crime wasn't being born poor or to the wrong family, nor was it that he was an unsavory character cut from a dirty cloth. The reason she loathed him so was simple: the most important person in her life needed him... Desired him. Trusted him, even.

Mature enough now to realize that this had filled her with a terrible jealousy, she played with her glasses, acting as if she were straightening them. "Evidently not. Heaven forbid you go five minutes without using your cock."

Sloven at the best of times, this time the tracker of treasure was even more disheveled than usual, leaving only so much mystery as to what he has been up to. And that was merely on a visual level. "Tell me one thing - did you at least make sure she'd be looked after, or did you just drop her off at your brother's place so you could get laid?"

Bai was hardly a fan of Nathan's, but at least he hadn't almost stolen away the one she loved. Until he did.

Wounded pride an act that he had down pat, this time the drama queen didn't have to fake being offended by the accusation, hand flying up to clutch his runaway heart, "Firstly, it's every ten minutes, thank you. Also, nice language. You kiss your daughter with that mouth?" Yep, there was scowl he knew so well. "Second, I'll have you know my little brother is very capable of looking after Dells."

"Dells?" Chortling at the gross boorishness of the nickname, she could only imagine how her offspring had taken the show of affection. Oh, that was right, Daniella was her daughter. "Cute," it was plain that she couldn't have found the name stupider if she tried, but a wasted effort when you'll be out of her life soon."

 _Would he though?_

Head rolling perpendicular to the door, the first half came as if his neck were attempting a very owlish 360 degree turn. Whereas the beginning had been automatic, the man was very aware of where the trend was leading; catching the motion as it happened, he was quick to mirror himself. Writing it off as a mere stretch would have been better, yet he knew what he was doing.

Rather, where he was looking.

Chalking the initial thought up to rebellion more than anything else, his body had an answer to the contrary. Moths, pennies, magnets, whatever they were this time, Samuel could practically feel the pull even then. By all rights he should have been done with Daniella, or at least close enough to line things up for a finish that could only be clean with a fabled kind of luck that neither of them possessed.

All things considered, it really might all end in a sea of ashes. Guiding attachment not quite emotional, there was definitely something there, a carnal urge that could not be quelled. A cat that could not be tamed, a wild fire that would not be extinguished until it burned down the whole field.

Libertalia a story still worth telling, Bai made a point that Sam couldn't disagree with. Not truly. Even supposing that Dells had all the facts - which at this point she did not - there had been a pretty concrete agreement about this being the last time. _Although_... This had been a heat-of-the-moment type of fling, fanned by the fumes of a few drinks too many. If it had happened once, who was to say that it wouldn't happen again?

"We'll see." He saluted the death of detachment with a callous shrug meant to annoy the mother, "You never know, I just might do such a good job that I get hired on again."

Under the curse, how could they possibly move forward from this? It would have been sick if she wanted anything to do with him past this point, and so far as he told himself, Sam was only interested in the short-term happiness she could give him. And yet...

Dangerously teetering into the territory of being addictive, he seriously could have gone for something pale and slender that could fit into his mouth, something with a little kick.

Dark hanging like a velvet curtain, her lips had gone from rose red to deathly jet. "Yes, we shall see. Now," very stylistic, the light reflected off Bai's lenses in a way that said there was no way in hell that would happen, "get dressed and take me to see my daughter."

Sam obviously couldn't do that.

In part, because the young woman wasn't at Nathan's at all; bundled up safe and sound, she was just on the other side of the door. Bigger than trivial things like physical whereabouts, there was also the matter of a certain promise he had made to a very unstable little girl. A promise that he meant to keep, even if he had technically fallen into a space between a moral gray area and a loophole.

Language not limited to the verbal, the man shook his mane of peppered auburn, stalling while he raked his brain for a better alternative, "Better idea, you wait out where I can call and make sure she's with Nathan."

Eyes damn-near popping out of her skull, it couldn't have been made any more plain that his answer had raised the older woman's dander, "Make sure? You mean you don't know?!"

Alright, so maybe in hindsight saying it that way wasn't the wisest of options, but it wasn't like there was a winning scenario in her dialogue wheel. Astutely gathering that his paycheck was on the verge of taking a hit, he kept spinning his tale. Thinking all the while of an exit strategy, the man realized that he had been sitting on answer this whole time.

Apologetic the last thing he would be with the shrew that had set all of this into motion, Sam scratched the back of his neck, "I mean, I left her with Nathan, but a lot can happen in thirty minutes. Dells could be out somewhere with Rafael or taking pictures of the beach with Chloe." Because that was a brilliant excuse when there was blackout.

"Who? And who?" Being away for a considerable part of this madcap misadventure, it was natural that the woman had missed quite a few chapters. However, provided that she had been there with her daughter every step of the way, he had the feeling that she wouldn't have paid much attention to the little things. Or even some of the big ones.

"They're... friendly. Enough."

Well, they didn't pose an immediate threat the way those Orange Tiger assholes did. Rafael was still highly debatable in his book, yet this was all in theory anyways. As for the other one, Bai definitely must have heard of Chloe Frazer, but on the off chance that she hadn't, he knew that it was easier to just leave it bare bones.

"Oh, I'm so comforted to hear that!" Frazzled enough to almost sound like she cared, Sam knew Bai better than that. Although he did have to hand it to her - the sarcasm was strong with this one. "No," firm, she touched the side of her frames once more, "here's what's gonna happen: you're going to go kick your little whore out, get dressed, and take me to find my child."

"Mom voice." Bai took control of the situation as she had done innumerable times in the past, yet this time the businesswoman had been woefully misinformed. While he couldn't have the pleasure of rubbing it in her face and keeping everything intact, the thief did the next best thing and mocked the rabid shark, "Very sexy." Sam wore his best shit-eating grin, just for her.

"How about you go fuck yourself and help me find my child." Bad enough that she had started her day on a flimsy metal deathtrap, waking up to a prolonged power outage had done little for her nerves. "You know, the young woman you're supposed to be watching?"

Oh, he'd been doing his job. Just maybe not in the way Bai would want to hear about, "I promise you, she's fine. Well, maybe not fine, but she's in one piece."

Doing that freaky demonic thing they did in the movies, he could have sworn that her head swiveled around and up, eyes glowing an angry red. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Well, he supposed that Bai would have to find out about the damage done to his client sooner or later, but was it really so wrong to hope it was never? Sucking in the air through his teeth, Sam pulled out his cigarette and put it back in his mouth before remembering that there was no way to light it up. _Great, just peachy_. "There was a small snag with some of your Triad friends. Turns out that they employ a couple of psychos."

Psychos? Her father had a exceptionally strict vetting process for any member of the Association that had sufficient clearance to such an important individual, however that was back home in the mainland. Yahui's cousin must have been the one to employ such lose cannons... The very same cousin Baba was so intent that her daughter marry.

"And?" The businesswoman had a hunch as to who little Jian might have hired, but something told her that there was more to this status update.

"They really did a number on her. I don't know how independent Daniella was before all this, but she's not particularly keen about being left alone these days." It wasn't fishing if it was true.

Tsking, the bespectacled beauty rolled her eyes, long ebony lashes catching the faint light streaming in through the window atop the staircase. "Lovely. Since I'm here, I suppose that I'll have to do something about that." There was plainly nothing she was looking forward to less - no wonder Dells seemed so messed up and quick to pick up the bottle.

Never before had a mother-daughter scene sounded so utterly unappealing. "Try to hold back some of that enthusiasm, would ya?" Seriously, depressing as the image of Bai and Daniella reuniting was, the empty hallway felt a lot colder than it had ten seconds ago. "Look, just give me thirty minutes. I might have to hog tie her to get her to you, but I'll bring her in."

Bai was not loving that ballpark number, or the suggestion that her daughter was that reluctant to see her, however she at least had a say in one of those things. "Twenty."

While the heiress was stashed just inside, that kind of timetable was technically within the realm of possibility, but... It just would have been preferable to have some time to try and sober the girl up first, and frankly, thirty minutes was already pushing it. Sure he could throw some lukewarm water on the body and pump her full of old coffee from the lobby, but that could only do so much to make things seem... normal?

Doubtful, she scoffed, "The island doesn't seem that big."

Actually the island was a lot bigger than it seemed, so much so that he wasn't entirely sure that Nathan and his family had seen every bare inch. "There are a couple different places she might have gone before the storm." Not really a lie, Sam shook his head and spoke down to Bai as if she were the average, run-of-the-mill bad costumer, "Look lady, just be happy I know this place well enough to give you that much."

Agitation mounting, the woman was wasting so much time with the babysitter that she may as well have not even bothered deciding it would be worth it to see her little girl in the first place. "You're a paragon of kindness."

Flattery was always appreciated, but something told him that it was less than sincere coming from the harpy in human flesh. "Just go back to your room, I'll find you once I have her."

Brow arching pointedly beneath a pitch black curtain, Bai gestured abruptly towards the ceiling, tone incredulous, "You want me to go back upstairs, in the dark?" Well if she was going to say it like that, the adventurer didn't much mind the picture of the woman sporting a cast, however even that would probably find a way to bite him in the ass.

Still, it was better than the alternative. "Would you rather stay?" _Please say no, please say no!_ Eyes bugging ever so slightly, realizing what he had just invited a moment too late, Samuel was immensely relieved by her answer. Even if Dells hadn't been passed out naked on the bed, he really did not savor the notion of spending any more time conversing with the woman than he already had.

'Eww' written clear as day across her face even in the nocturnal dimness, Bai shook her head to emphasize her disgust, "No. But what I can do is kick your little friend out while you get ready." Thinking she was being proactive, Bai made the first move for the door. "I can wait in your room on case Daniella comes back."

 _Nope. That was not a good thing_. "I can deal with one girl," Sam inched over so that he was blocking the doorknob from the businesswoman, "I do that all the time. You just... wait out here."

 _Yep, that was totally convincing_.

Gaze narrowing, the spectacled diva had to question why he was being so cagey. "I understand if you're scared your little whore is going to steal something," she'd seen it happen to Rafe countless times when she had been his bodyguard, "but you're acting like a man that's trying to hide something..." Trailing off ominously, she allowed just enough time for Sam to dread what she would say next, "Something about your friend."

What could he possibly say to that?!

"Aww," Bai was prepared to shoulder her way through Sam if she had to, but under the circumstances she found it considerably more prudent to playfully smack his cheek, acting out of mirth as opposed to wrath, "it's adorable that you think I care!"

Deeply bothered by the condescending manhandling, Sam copied her almost exactly, pinching instead of smacking, "No, I really don't. But aren't you just adorable for thinking otherwise!"

Leering through the gloom, with the speed of a cobra the former bodyguard had struck her opposition in the gut. None too appreciative of the turnabout, she shoved the wizened geezer aside and reached a clawed hand out for the doorknob. Catching her at the last possible second, Sam grunted through the liver he was trying to cough up. Forget about the casualty that was his poor cigarette.

"Alright," wheezing in a surrender that was anything but sweet, his black tar lungs could barely function, "I'll take you to your kid. Just give me a minute to get her in the shower and on her way."

More affronted that he dared to touch her then hearing the humane way he spoke of his playthings, Bai wrenched the dirty thief off her four hundred dollar jacket. "How generous of you. But no, you took too long."

Opening the door while he was still largely incapacitated, the pair of bangs with glasses glared over a pinstriped shoulder at the miserable security she had hired, "I'm going to get the hooker out of your hair while you get dressed." Stilettos clomping over the hardwood, she scoffed, "Pick yourself up, you look like hell."

"Eh..." Panting from the unexpected force of what the woman was still capable of after all these years, he had little choice but to follow after the barbarian as she stomped into the bedroom.

Ownership, materialism, and snobbishness three traits that come with running a sizable chunk of the world, the woman traipsed into the room like it was nothing. Ignorant of who was really laying curled up beneath the covers, all Bai saw was a huddled figure, a useless vapor in human form. Absolutely disgusted by the layabout and the way that they had opted to take the easy way out, she ripped the blankets off, exposing the presumed prostitute to the glacial air that all but froze the room solid.

Sheets hitting the ground at normal speed (although it would have been honeyed slo-mo in a nightmare version), there was nothing Sam could do or say to keep Bai from her daughter. _Game over_.

"Oh, for the love of!" Filling in the blank with her own personal deity, the businesswoman threw up both arms in aggravation. Callous action jolting the faux-blonde with all the speed of a tortoise, the spectacled shrew realized that the younger female had been drinking. Heavily.

Air carrying a tad more than love tonight, the gelid temperature ran a long finger up and down Daniella's spine, causing her to shiver and blink at a snail's pace. Closing her eyes stubbornly, the young woman on the bed felt around for a blanket that was no longer within reach. Still not seeing the room beyond her lashes, the heiress sought out Sam. After all, he was the next best thing to a blanket in the cold.

Getting nowhere in a hurry, Bai adopted another familiar role from the mother's handbook, picking up random pieces of clothing from the floor. One thing felt like it was probably a shirt. Figuring the need for alcohol to be par for the course, the black widow proceeded to toss the discarded scraps at the younger's back and side.

"Sam...?" Speech still slurred, this time it was difficult to tell if that had been the effect of the liquor or just the huskiness that sometimes came from sleep. Glancing over at where the article of fabric had bounced off, Dells attempted to figure out what was happening. Where they under attack?

"Urgh," mother dearest gave up trying to drop hints and just yanked the girl out of the bed, "you're a mess! I was going to tell you to just take your money and go, but if you're this hammered this early in the day, you clearly have bigger issues than just selling yourself to old men." Daniella resisted being dragged off the bed like anyone would have, but Bai was determined to get rid of the man's rented harlot. "Get out of my way!" Barking at Sam, the businesswoman shoved him away from the door to dispose of the trash.

Watching her protector getting knocked back to the side, Daniella slowly clued in that there was second, bossier individual calling the shots all of a sudden. Glasses weren't unique to the woman, yet the blonde couldn't help but go that place as she was forced towards the open door. "Mom?"

Imagining the sweet little homebody that had dozed off in the library reading her father's old books, Bai snorted at the tramp in her iron grip, "Not even close. Go home and sober up! And stop selling yourself, your real mother must be so disappointed in you!"

Everything had transpired so quickly, but Sam was pretty sure he had just seen the dictionary definition of an absent parent. Granted their world was all shadow, blues and blacks with the rare highlight, and the hair was too new, but still, maybe she should have slowed down enough to really look at young woman. Bai was hardly a saint by any means, but to witness a woman so uninvolved in her daughter's life that she had just thrown said offspring naked into a public hallway was sad.

Maybe he wasn't the only one who needed a smoke...


	63. No Thank You

**\- Chapter Fifty-Seven -**

 **No Thank You**

"We ended up stuck on that beach for a week before any of us realized the truth. A whole bloody week, can you believe it?" Audience hooked while Nadine listened quietly, the Australian accent lent itself well to the tale, "Traipsed all up and down the coast Christ knows how many times, and not one whiff that we were sitting on the answer the whole time."

As a matter of fact, no, no he could not. Sure the narrative Chloe was spinning was cohesive enough, and he'd known engines to do that in the past, but come on, it was Chloe telling the story! Nathan wasn't going to say that she was a liar, but one had to admit that the woman did have a certain way of coloring the situation.

Sully did the same exact thing... which might explain one reason why the pair were such fast friends.

Cursing under his breath that Cassie's school was on the other side of the map from the house, Nathan broke off the main street and pulled up into some kind of housing complex that served as a shortcut. It didn't shave too much time off the clock, however it was faster than suffering the carpool lane. Just barely paying attention to a story she'd heard before, Nadine was the only one to make note of the route they were taking.

Phone chirping excitedly in its charger, there was a second ping in the backseat not even a millisecond later. Obviously Nate wasn't about to endanger his daughter's life by peeking over at the caller id, but having no such restraints, Chloe was able to have a look see. Maybe it was just a coincidence, however the timing was so instantaneous that both messages must have been left at the same exact time.

Questioning when the last time she'd received a mass message was, the ebony-eyed pickpocket reached for her phone almost absently, finger lazily swiping over a picture of Meenu and Nadine.

Bored on the flight over, and honestly missing that girl something fierce, Chloe had temporarily swapped out the standard fare of Nathan losing it. Really there had been a handful of great snaps taken here and there, but this one was special, and not just because she had caught Ross smiling.

"It's from Sam," curious as to why he'd be calling at this juncture - unless there was some kind of trouble - the woman looked over Cassie towards her fellow adults, "apparently he's run into a bit of trouble."

Cassie fidgeted in her seat, eyes widening just a touch behind her candy apple frames, "Is he ok?" So far as the kid knew, Sam was invincible and bad-ass, totally unbeatable in a fight. Then again, she had no idea what kind of work it was he did for a living.

 _Was Sam Drake ever okay_? Luckily for the child, the veteran explorer didn't have the heart to say that to her face. Instead she patted the girl's scabby knees bracingly, every gesture light and airy, "He's fine sweetpea. Your uncle just needs us to come by the hotel. Asap."

Her eyes shifted to Nathan then, trying to communicate that there was some urgency in the bold letters. Or maybe Sam was just one of those that capitalized certain abbreviations. Either way, it was probably wiser to err on the side of caution, all things considered.

Figuring the missed call was his brother at this stage, Nathan groaned internally. After picking up speed on the declining slope of the hill, they were more than halfway home already; uphill and near one of the island's busier ports, the hotel was clear on the other end of town. In the complete opposite direction from the school. Normally Nathan wouldn't have minded, but between the party and his brother's secondary motivation for visiting, there was a lot on his plate at the moment. _Hopefully Elena was having an easier time at least_.

Nadine, who shockingly was a non-issue at this point, chimed in, "You should ask him if he told her yet."

"Told who what? You mean Dan... erm, Ella?"

Cassie was still trying to get used to that one. Not particularly close to the other girl, it felt like an odd transition to suddenly have to remember that it was imperative she call her uncle's guest Ella. A last-minute idea that had been solidified for the party, even that morning it hadn't seemed very serious, but now that people were showing up that might recognize her for that missing heiress on the news... Well, it mattered to her uncle, so it mattered to her too.

"Ja." The ex-mercenary was succinct as ever.

Very much a kid, the mini blonde puckered up her lips into the classic mocking kissey face, "You think he should tell Ella that he lurvs her! Sam and Ella sitting in a tree-"

Nate knew the minute the conversation took this turn that he would be the odd man out if it came to defending his brother. And considering present company, it was almost a guarantee that it would devolve to something like this. "I don't know about that..."

 _Dammit, Sam_ , Nathan was not looking forward to explaining any of this to Cassie. The prospect of his daughter and boys was enough to give him an ulcer at night. Having been that boy once upon a time, he just wanted to shield his baby from harm; desire tenfold at times, honestly it was probably because he had never known that kind of protection himself growing up, just kind of improvising his way through life on the road. Elena was right of course - the better Cassie was prepared to maneuver in the world, the better off she would be. But that was still his little girl, and as such the thought that she should know about the various type of relationships in the world was almost certain to do him in.

"Oh, he so totally does." Finding it oh-so-easy to instigate when she didn't need to handle the consequences, Chloe smirked bright enough to chase away the storm clouds. "I would bet good money that your uncle Sam cares a good deal about that girl."

"Come on, Chloe." Nate plead for mercy, "We talked about gambling around Cass." Of course his pleas fell on deaf ears.

"Ew." While Cassie might have had the best reason to stick her tongue out at the very notion of romance, it was Nadine that voiced her disgust at the idea.

Maneuvering over a puddle that reflected a charcoal-stained sky, the driver saw how out of hand this conversation was getting and knew that he had to steer things back on track. "Alright, alright, enough tormenting my brother about his love life." Had Cassie not been in the car, more might have been said on the matter. "At least wait for him to be here to defend himself." With that matter settled (at least in his eyes), that just left the reason they were being summoned back earlier than anticipated. "Did the message happen to say why?"

Mischief sparkled in Chloe's onyx orbs, however she knew to mind the fact that Cassie was present. "It just says that there was a hiccup, and Daniella was with us this entire time." Re-reading the actual text while she summed it up, she glanced over at her peers, catching her mistake, "Sorry, I mean Ella, the soon-to-be Mrs. Samuel Drake."

Nope, that just sounded wrong on every conceivable level.

Despite laughing off the apparent relationship her uncle had with that young woman, Cassie was caught off-guard by this news. "What, for real?!"

Fatherly superpowers kicking in as they looped around an empty lot, Nathan could sense his baby girl's distress as soon as she opened her mouth. "No, honey, Chloe was just trying to be funny. Your uncle isn't the marrying type." Nathan had known that about Sam since the beginning, way back in a time when the brothers had gone by a different name.

"Good," the girl perked up almost right away, "because he promised he'd take me anywhere I wanted to go when I graduate this summer. You know as well as I do that he's not gonna pony up if he has a wife holding him back."

 _Wow_ , Nathan hadn't realized how much Cass had been looking forward to the trip with her uncle. He supposed he shouldn't have been all that surprised, given how much she adored Sam and rarely had the chance to spend quality time with him. Once everything was back to normal - or as close as it was gonna get - he should ask his brother to come by for another visit.

"The power's out." More interested in watching the homes blur by outside than discussing Sam, Nadine pointed over to an entire section of blacked out boxes in the valley.

So it was.

 **[Hallway Confessional]**

Trying to figure out what in the world had just happened, Daniella blinked dumbly at the door with uneven lids. As her mother might have put it, she probably looked like a stupid cow chewing her own cud. _Had that woman been her mother_? Seeing only vague shapes in the gloom, the heiress really wasn't sure. Last she had heard, Sam told Elena and Mr. Drake that Sully was off with her mother. _But those hands felt so cold, the needle-like fingers so sharp_...

Bundle growing heavy in her arms, she glanced down at the woven roll. Whoever that lady was, she at least had enough decency to offer some form of coverage... Wait a minute...

Hit with the bitter-tasting realization that she was going to be sick, Daniella stumbled away from the room, dropping parts from the random assortment of clothes as she went. Escape impossible when the assailant was the contents of your own gut, she barely made it a handful of steps before she was bent over double. Dry hacking fit cracking up her esophagus, nothing came up.

Weary of moving an inch lest a wave of bile be triggered, the pounding in the back of her brain was slowly getting louder and more pronounced. Chancing a look down to be sure that something hadn't spewed out of her mouth when she hadn't been paying attention, she realized that she wasn't wearing any clothes. _Why wasn't she wearing any clothes_?

Balled up in her fist, Dells saw that she was still holding on to a shirt. _Well that was convenient. But seriously, why wasn't she dressed? And where was Sam_?

Eyes unfocused and feeling liked they were crossed, the young woman turned all around in search of a person that just wasn't there. Fear having no place in the new world, she was more confused as to why he wasn't there, not scared by his absence. Struggling to remember what had happened before that scary woman had flown in and kicked her out of a nice, warm bed, Dells closed her eyes as tight as she possibly could. Almost like she was a little kid again...

A kid again... Far from linear, the girl's thoughts drifted back to her childhood, to the light summer rain that fell over her father's grave. Or rather, to the little hilltop that had been designated as his final resting place. _There hadn't been a body_. Feeding into the weather as it was now, when she tried to look it fled away, as ghosts always did.

Right, she was still standing there in the hallway. Brushing aside the drink that had led to her memories getting fuzzy, the heiress pulled the top her maybe-mother threw at her on over her head. Falling long across her thigh, she realized that it was Sam's.

It still smelled like him...

And cigarettes. Scent overwhelming, Daniella had no choice but to stop sniffing the shirt. Scrambling out of the middle of the floor by some miracle, Dells had found her face in what felt like a potted plant of some kind.

Several minutes of dying later, a door opened and someone emerged. Their body langue seemed rather frazzled, lanky frame craned around in search of something or someone. Honestly the teen wasn't sure which room she had been so rudely expelled from, but she'd recognize that lanky frame anywhere. _Sam_.

Led by the noises of sick, the thief found the heiress yaking into a silk palm tree.

"Hey there." Loud enough to announce his presence so to not frighten the rabbit, he was quiet enough sliding down the wall at her side to not aggravate the throbbing of the drunk's head. Rubbing small circles across her back, she leaned against him when she had finished (for the time being).

For a moment they remained like that, neither saying a single word.

Vomit echoing off the deep plastic bucket and drowning the mulch, Daniella was too messed up to talk. Besides, there really wasn't a lot to talk about anyways. Just her liquor-vein status or the things between them. Even if she had wanted to broach that topic, her head hurt too much to think. _Why ruin a good thing_? It was nice like this, going back to how things had been before.

But nothing could last forever.

"So... Your mother wants to see you." Sounding like he had debated for all of five minutes about ripping off the band-aid quick, Sam's hand ground to a steady halt on her back.

"Urgh." He couldn't tell if that was her reaction to the news or her stomach.

Either way he found it to be a fitting response to her predicament. "You don't have to tell me twice. Dells," in the back of his skull, Sam knew he should probably start using the other shortened variant of her name, but there were more pressing matters on his mind, "about earlier..."

Polite at least, she turned her head away to barf some more into the fake shrubbery. Resuming his gentle motions, he tried again to bring her around, fully aware that time was a luxury they no longer had. "I got you a little something."

Kind enough to let him pick out his own wardrobe from the dresser, Bai had been none the wiser to the man's real plan. Digging for something in the dark never an easy task, the adventurer had managed to smuggle out something for Dells. A cotton dress.

A real magic trick, the magician's handsome assistant extracted the scrunched up ball to hand it over, however he thought better of it at the last minute. Folding it over his arm like a matador's cape, the grizzled brunette figured he'd hand it over once the sick spell quieted down some. For now, whatever she was in would have to suffice. _Although, it was almost a shame that she was covered up at all_...

Hand slipping a hair lower on her back than it needed to for just a fraction of a moment, he pictured teeth gnashing over her shoulder. "I may have gotten you some intimates too, but I wasn't so sure you'd want it, after last night." Yeah, saying the words out loud, he could see how the mind might jump to the wrong point.

Spine tingling at the change of position - or was it the words? - the heiress stopped hacking up her liver long enough to freeze in place. Invited cordially enough, the events of that afternoon came back gradually, like morphine in a drip-feed.

Sam... He... Was standing over her... No, he was behind her. He was... holding her down, pinning her arms to her back... And they were both naked...? Honing in on that one image in particular, she saw his hand as it enveloped her own, his digits squeezing down over her missing nail, clasping tight over the marks that Ashley had inflicted. Kinetic, everything had been one frantic blur.

Had more happened than she thought? All signs pointed to yes.

Stare going blank, she thought about shaking the thoughts away, but that seemed like it would have been murder on her head, and it was bad enough just existing in any position. _I started drinking, so I didn't have to think of Daddy... Or about Sam's involvement with his... disappearance._ Did she do something bad? Something that would bring shame upon her ancestral family line?

No, it was simpler to just leave this one be for a rainy day. _A different rainy day_. Ideally one of those metaphorical ones that never seemed to arrive...

Making a sloppy attempt at steadying herself, the burn in the back of her throat had started to fade some, so that was nice. On the downside, the heiress had gotten so still that Sam moved his hands from her back to her shoulders. _They were probably safer there_. But...

"I didn't kill him." Words just coming out (not unlike with what the young woman was presently experiencing), Drake hadn't planned on touching the topic. At least, not so soon. But when the hell had anything gone his way today? Or ever, for that matter.

Being closer to drunk than she was to sober, it was almost a miracle that Dells knew what he was talking about. Rubbing her mouth with the back of her hand, she felt her head tipping back, as if it actually weighed the thirty pounds it felt like. "You didn't?"

Running his fingers through his tired locks, the man peered over his shoulder towards the room. Maybe in some way Bai deserved to hear this story from his mouth too. Then again, the harpy had probably made peace with her own truth years ago, so really it might have been cruel to bring her in on this. Not that he had plans to get into this here. The businesswoman had set an arbitrary deadline, and frankly this was the kind of thing that deserved better than a few minutes in a dark corner, standing over a fake fern.

"Not directly." He shrugged, still feeling to this day that the man had gotten his just deserts. "We were all chasing something, but your dad didn't know when to pack it in and come back home."

"You did." Voice small, it sounded true, like something her father would have done.

Liquid courage leaking down spindly green fingers, Sam was hardly fazed by a little vomit; what caught the ex-con's attention was the rapt way the woman was looking up at him. Shaking a fair bit due to all the external factors at play, her gaze was relatively steady, as if she were using him as center of gravity. He couldn't quite explain it, however there was something warm about the look, a sort of invisible light that couldn't be seen.

Given the prompt he hadn't realized he required, Sam explained, albeit briefly, "I had my little brother. But I almost messed that up." Had it been his imagination, or did he add in the 'too'?

Pensive about her next move, the heiress gingerly patted his shoulder. Ultimately, she opted against the comforting squeeze, not trusting herself enough. "So, Mr. Nathan was the only smart one there. Maybe I should start hanging out with him instead."

Ever the pouting child, Sam frowned at the girl. "Anyone ever tell you you're mean when you're sobering up?"

"Then maybe just let me stay drunk."

Words hanging in the air, she abruptly turned back to the emerald-highlighted greenery one last time, expelling everything left in her system. And quite possibly a boot too. Falling back into Sam's arms once more, her head was still spinning, and it wasn't all because of the alcohol. Sure that was a factor, but it was a lot to process that he hadn't quite played the part she had feared.

 _Daddy chose the treasure over us. Over me_. Wishing that she was more broken up to hear this, Sam's version of events sounded about right. While it might have been a lie, the young woman didn't think that it was. So supposing that he had been telling the truth, then that meant that he hadn't killed her father... Which meant...

Closing her eyes, it was too much.


	64. Some Kind Of Expectations

**\- Chapter Fifty-Eight -**

 **Some Kind Of Expectations**

Another familiar thread of the same old song and dance, the heiress tried to steady herself against the wall as the room kept spinning over and over in an infinite loop. Pretty sure that she was done with the foliage (for the time being at least), Daniella leaned into her palm, fingers spreading across the blackened expanse. Head throbbing like an angry boil with secret plans for world domination, her eyes were losing a battle at coalescing the pair of walls before her.

 _What did you expect_? Ears suddenly able to pick up the sound of every individual drop as it fell, the thunder roaring outside was absolute murder. On a good day - i.e. one that she hadn't upchucked her liver - the young woman might have said that there was no worse fate than listening to her mother's snide criticism in place of that little inner voice. However, having just barely lived through these past few weeks, all things considered it was a pretty even race...

 _Mama_...

Begrudging title more of an audible groan than anything else that had escaped her lips these last few minutes, she could feel her fingers curl themselves into fists. Wall not susceptible to being grasped the way sheets were, the natural magenta rings on the tops of her fingers snagged against the flat surface.

Sour in a way that was far more bitter than pure vinegar left to broil in the hot sun, there was a knot in the core of her stomach. Partially it was the drink winning the war with bile and acid. The other half of the cause...

At that point where she adamantly swore off booze forever, Daniella knew deep down that that was a lie.

Remembering a time not so long ago when she abhorred liars, at least when it was just herself for company, the teen alone could be honest about what she was.

Isolation only mostly voluntary, it had been all too easy to use the fake I.D. burning a hole in her wallet when she was overwhelmed. More than likely to return to that place when things got even a little rough again, that was what she did to cope. Fail a test? Get passed a note meant for the much prettier girl next to you? Get what seemed on the surface to be be a month of detention for showing up five seconds after the final bell rung? Start three days before you were supposed to, while in gym with only a pair of white shorts? Whatever it was, the answer was always the same: drink, scour the pavement with her pet cloud, and then drink some more.

Forced face-to-face with what her mother truly was, Daniella probably shouldn't have been all that surprised. Wen Bai was the biggest liar in any room, she had always known that about her mom's job, but knowing what she knew now, it was no wonder that she could taste the lie on her lips.

Stale and yet a salty fizzle across the top of her tongue, Dells practiced the words in her head so that she wouldn't have to repeat herself. Even there in a private place that absolutely no one could see into, they were still most foul! _I missed you_. Just three little words, and yet she couldn't bring herself to say them. Decorum be damned, her mother had all but severed that sacred bond when she sold her only daughter off and left her to the mercy of strangers.

 _I needed you_.

In light of the new information Sam had presented, the betrayal felt that much more profound.

Daddy little more than a photograph and the earliest of fuzzy childhood memories, the little girl mourning at the monolithic pyre had required more than a tepid pat on the head. Life thoroughly shattered, as positive an influence as he had been, it shouldn't have fallen on Shen to try and bandage the cracks in her young heart. If anything, that job ought to have been her mother's. Mama had been just as affected by the loss, so hadn't that been all the more reason to come together? Instead it had been two equally devastated souls left there to stand the final vigil, the elder of whom had left the service with a half-hearted graze and a slow yet dignified adjustment to her darkened veil.

One would have thought that growing up, there would have been room for all manner of other small opportunities to arise. Perhaps the sharing of an old family story from Mama's ancestral home, or even a pointless anecdote about Daddy's parents. Honestly the daughter would have settled for something as innocuous as sharing a family dinner that was more than a polished facade.

Fed up by the show, once Daniella had attempted to break the cycle by slamming her plate down on the table in an 'unprovoked fit'. Nothing came from it. Husband number two had merely kept his eyes on his evening report as if nothing had happened. Calm as the painting of the lake above the gilded dinner table, after sentencing the troublemaker with a punishment as hollow as her marriage, Mama had resumed her diatribe about international travel. Naturally the woman had somewhere else to be the next day, because work was all she cared about. That, and appearance.

Not long after that night, the pre-teen had woken up to womanhood, complete with a bed of blood and a cramp that honestly convinced her that she was dying. Mama would have been the first person she thought to call on, yet as she curled into herself to keep from... whatever it was her body wanted to do... Daniella recalled that she was out of the country. Of course Mama was "always available", but this wasn't the kind of thing she could just call her mom about.

After that incident with Carissa, the young heiress had been terrified of what might happen, but she dialed the one number she knew by heart yet had never called. Should there have been another such dire circumstance, she knew that it was probably alright, but something like this...? Despite what her body was going through, the girl just hadn't felt comfortable, so she had spent a literal weekend sobbing hysterically and holding herself.

Come to think of it, it really wasn't so different from what she was doing now. Except...

Slipping further and further down the wall, it was hard for the heiress to not dwell over recent events. Crown tingling at the thought of the bottle that had been smashed across it, the heavy marbles that were her eyes rolled across the hole in her shoulder that would have to be covered up for the rest of her life. Angel and Ashley had done a whole helluva lot to her body before she had flung herself out of a second story window, and she hand't helped matters any. Rafael had saved her skin in just about every meaning of the phrase, and what had she gone and done? Reopen her stitches.

Physically, Daniella's body had gone through its absolute limit (and beyond), and yet there she was, begging for more. Lowering pale sapphires through her lashes, in spite of the velvety dolor that devoured everything not highlighted in the steely rain, her eyes found her target. Mentally, Dells was amazed that she was even still standing.

 _I needed you_...

Family history aside, the heiress had been ripped from a normal life in the dead of night, just like in her books and stories. Terrified and lost to the point that she was nearly catatonic, the thought that she might never see her mother again left her unable to do anything but cry.

 _Don't you know how much I needed you_?

Eyes brimming over with tears and voice destroyed, it was safe to say that Daniella had cried more in a single night than she had ever cried in her entire life up until that point. In fact, she cried too much; most of the tears spilled for her step-father had been artificial, but now that they were coming from a real place, she hadn't known what else there was for her to do.

Strained as things got between the two women, she loved her mother; Mama was all she had in the world. And then came the truth, that she had just been a pawn to stay in power. How could anyone move on from hearing that type of thing? Forget how fantastical it was, just the thought that someone could basically just give away their own flesh and blood... Even now, as she recovered oh-so-slowly from her intimate session with a faux-ficus, Dells couldn't begin to wrap her brain around it.

 _How could you just abandon me_? _First Daddy, and now you too... Do you hate me that much_? Hung up on just her first twenty-four hours into this adventure, the bleach-blonde could practically feel her mother's arms around her once more, mere moments before she felt the dagger in her back.

 _I missed you_. Hah, maybe that was what she might have said, before the battle lines were drawn.

 **[Same Hall, Different Issues]**

Glued between the eminent deadline he had been threatened with and the drunken wreck he had to get across the finish line, Sam's eyes were never far from the two most important women in his old partner's life.

 _Partner_. Dirty and grossly distasteful in his mouth, the ex-con didn't much care for the word when it came to his relationship with Rafe. The rich asshole had been a great means to an end at a time when they had no leads, but all things considered he would have handled things differently in hindsight.

Alibi refined to a believable point, as he floated through the gloomy corridor with the Bride of Frankenstein collecting herself in the corner, the thief told the heiress the right words to say. Daniella had been with Nathan, running errands. She'd been sick all day, but like a trooper, Daniella had insisted that she tough it out. When everyone split up that morning, he had been the only one that hadn't gotten in the vehicle. Drills like that.

Waging her own personal war in the midst of the unknown, the young woman gave the occasional grunt to indicate that was still paying attention. Her first response had been to nod, but that had only sent her head spinning, the floor turning to the depths of the sea beneath her feet. Just barely managing to steady her before a grand collapse, the explorer held her arm until he thought she could stand on her own.

Cleaning her up in time was a dream that really just might have been unattainable...

 **[The Getaway Car]**

Role in everything made clear via a slightly misspelled text, after puling into the parking lot Nathan was legitimately tempted to turn right back around (again) and leave.

Messaged to pick up his older brother so that Daniella might spend some quality time catching up with her mother, the play sounded almost altruistic... until he realized Sam was only bailing to avoid the woman. _Rafe's ex_. While it made sense that there had been more between the pair than just business, it was still unsettling to think about the fact that they had reproduced.

Impression of Bai not particularly fond, while Nate could see not wanting to hang around, he couldn't imagine that Daniella would thank Sam for abandoning her to the vultures. For better or worse, the young woman had grown quite attached to his big brother - maybe too attached. Forgivable under the present circumstances, after everything that had happened Nathan doubted that the heiress would want anything to do with her mother. Especially without support.

While it might have taught his sibling a lesson, with an outlier known to be dangerous in the past a strong component in the equation, it was probably best to remain close. Just in case. Hoping his brother made the right call, Nathan sent a single reply: twenty minutes.

Meanwhile, as they idled in the rain, Cassie pondered aloud what everyone was doing back at the house. Never not looking for an excuse, Chloe lightly teased the girl, insisting on a dark fate, "Knowing that lot? Probably treating themselves to some birthday cake."

Too old to believe a bold-faced-lie that bad, the blonde rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. Not even Joey's a big enough jerk to open my presents."

"You're the one that asked, sweet pea." The lifter-drifter noted the very specific name that was dropped and filed it away for later.

Taken to playing with the zippers on her bag, the bespectacled girl shook her head, "Obviously everyone's all huddled together in the living room. I was just wondering if they were all sitting there in the dark, or if someone had the foresight to start telling stories, or something."

Cutter probably would have been the first one to suggest they keep themselves busy before cabin fever set in, Chloe would bet good money on that. Perhaps Ali might bless them all with some passages from whatever he had been reading - the kid had a good voice for that sort of thing. "That, or they're trying not to murder one another."

"Hmm," Cassie put all of three seconds of thought into who she suspected the murderee might be before just blurting out, "Joey. Joey, or Mary-Elizabeth." Joey was a major punk eighty percent of the time, but his mom was something else. High little voice, somehow always around to butt-in on a conversation, and really, really oblivious to the room. Anyone that thought that Cassie and Joey would be a cute item must have been a loony!

No more talkative than usual, as the dynamic duo mused upon the fates of their friends in the storm and the younger Drake handled his brother, Nadine was focused on her phone. She hadn't spoken to Wyatt since she landed - not that they had the kind of relationship where one knew constantly where the other was - however there was chance that the weather on the island was being reported on. It was practical to tell him, so that he didn't worry.

Actually, if anyone was concerned, it was her - Wyatt had been quick enough to join the hunt for the heiress when she had gone missing, but he had also been just as hasty to leave once she had been found. Wyatt was too much of a pro to linger, but all the same, Nadine couldn't help but fret over him.

 _Glad to hear the plane landed safely_. To the point, there was never a word wasted with Wyatt, and this conversation was no different. _Might be radio silence for a while. Taking on some private contracts._ Curious as to what this contract might have entailed, the mercenary in her knew better than to ask.

 _Be safe_. Just two words, yet they held so much weight.

 **[An Adult At Last]**

Phone back in his pocket before the walking wounded could even realize it was out, he offered Dells the dress so she could appear a little more presentable to the judge, jury, and executioner. A certainty that Bai had acted in all three roles in her life, Sam was more concerned about how razor-sharp her line of interrogation might be. A shark in the water that had already caught the scent, the woman was ruthless, and from everything he had seen, even her own daughter wasn't exempt from the feeding frenzy.

Very unladylike in the way she snatched back her underwear, the blonde had a queasy look on her face as she leaned against the wall to get her legs through both holes. Maybe he had only imagined it in the dark, however her mother would have pounced upon any and every weakness, as she was known to do. Lightly holding her shoulder so that she didn't go falling face-first into the potted plant, he watched her from the corner of his eyes. _The last thing they needed was her wearing proof of her binge_.

Fabric disappearing beneath his shirt - at least he was fairly confident that that was what she was wearing - Dells stood rooted in place. For a moment he thought that she was going to be sick, however the heiress pushed herself away from the wall so that she could stand on her own two feet (and finish tugging everything into place).

Shining through the darkness like a distant star on the verge of collapse, her eyes slid back and forth between their room and the man trying to hurry her along. Having trouble keeping them straight, she grabbed on to the hand lingering tentatively across her shoulder. This time it was as simple a gesture as keeping her from falling on her face, she knew that. She also knew that she didn't want to face the music.

Instead of taking the dress that he was offering, the young woman gazed helplessly up at Sam. "I don't want to go in there." More than a matter of want, Daniella knew deep in her gut that she couldn't make herself face the woman. There had been too much negligence and betrayal, and even if it hadn't been so raw, Dells doubted that she could handle it. Complicated to say the least, there had been too many emotions that went into it, and even with Sam at her side for support, it was too much.

Grasping her tighter than he'd intended, the ex-con was struck by the sudden whim to shake some sense back into that bleached head of hers. He wasn't scared of Bai per say, it was just that she was technically the one that was going to be paying him at the end of this thing. "You have to."

Nathan all over again, she was prepared to fight to have her voice heard, "Why?"

"Because she's your mother." She and Nathan may have have been possessed by that same spunky energy to rebel against his word, but what they had to hear was quite different. In his little brother's case, it had honestly been for his own good, but in Daniella's, his reasoning was entirely selfish. Sure, there might have been some benefit in pushing the two together, but those weren't factors he was taking into consideration. Gathering that she remained as unconvinced as his little brother had all those years ago, he added, "And I told her that you would."

"Then isn't that your problem?" Sassy not the first word that sprung to mind when describing the young woman, the fact that Dells had said that caught Sam off-guard. Not enough to get him to slack off enough for her to break away, but hey, 'A' for effort.

"Whoa," catching Sleeping Beauty before she could resort back to her old bag of tricks and flee, the sober historian drew her close against his body, "hold on now." Knowing Dells, a struggle would only see her hurting herself, and they were more near to the stairs than he was comfortable with. "Don't go getting any crazy ideas here."

Reluctant to be pulled into the embrace for the first time, she squirmed just enough to keep her eyes on the man. "Like swimming in the ocean during this storm? Consider that just one thing I would rather do than spend even a moment in that woman's presence." _Would it hurt you to hear me call you that_? It hurt her when her mother dropped all pretense of affection.

Ouch. "Yeah, that's not really an option here."

"Then what is?" Blue fire fierce as the storm outside, the thunder very well could have been coming from the girl this whole entire time.

"..." Sam didn't have an answer ready for her. Frankly he'd been spending so much time crafting the lie and perfecting it that he hadn't stopped to consider that he would have to convince the heiress to play along. Honestly he had just assumed that she would, if for no other reason then he had asked it of her.

Silence meeting silence, she made an honest attempt to maintain eye contact, gaze boring through his own to prove that this was more than a Prima Donna act. The mere thought of her mother was unwelcome, twisting her internal organs into minimally functioning balloon animals. Wasn't it enough that today alone had thrown her enough juggle? From Sam's brief account of what had happened to Daddy, there were entire hours that she couldn't account for, and... Seeing her mother was simply asking too much.

"I'm begging you," voice cracking as vulnerability took over, it didn't really strike him as begging just yet, but the fact that someone born into the life she was would jump to that place first spoke to the thief, "take me anywhere other than here." _Almost any place would do_.

"Please?"

Sam had given his word that he would hogtie the heiress and bring her in kicking and screaming if necessary. Good thing his word was only worth so much.

Bai wouldn't take kindly to being blown off, however Dells wasn't yielding either.

Touching the side of her face to be sure that she was positive about this (as if flinching was supposed to be some sort of guide), he nodded. Technically Daniella was old enough to do whatever it was she wanted to, so forcing her into that position was probably not right. Besides, taking a minute to put himself into her shoes, Sam could only imagine somebody trying to tell him that he had to face his own father. Their situations weren't the same by any means, but they were similar enough to understand some of what she must have felt.

"Thank you!" Melting into his arms, she was the Dells he knew once more, face gratefully buried into his shoulder.


	65. Do You Feel The Cage Too?

**\- Chapter Fifty-Nine-**

 **Do You Feel The Cage Too?**

World an uncertain thing, a silver-tipped fox led a newborn giraffe through the primordial gloom that came just before the dawn.

Fair as a fairy on a fern and light as an elf in snow some pretty poetics, neither comparison was apt to her crude plodding. Kinder, another way to put it was that while each step barely connected with the hardwood floor, her timid footfalls were not as dainty as they could have been. Being in a state between inebriated and hungover, any hope for grace and dignity had all but vanished into thin air.

Path a familiar one, the guiding wolf and his ring-eyed sheep were the very definition of inseparable. Oh so trusting of the rascal despite being a place where it was apt to say that she hated everything, the heifer-adjacent creature remained closer than close. Stumbling just the once across a tilting stage that reacted inordinately to the new science of gravity, the gray one pressed lightly against her back. Never far from the small curvature of spine, the other paw was against the wall, acting as a kind of bastard sonar.

"Easy there." A whisper stronger than what escaped his lips, there was the gentlest caresses of pressure in his touch.

Glare saying enough, the spotted cattle didn't need a lecture. Not now. Grumbling low over the state of their modern forest and the fact that the one tree in it had been wasted, it was enough that her hooves alone crashed with a mighty din louder than the thunder.

Noise absolute murder, the shy one changed tactics and buried her head into her host's shoulder. The journey was his doing, so in her mind the least he could do was keep it safe.

Specks of jet in the sockets of alabaster marble, Sam's eyes seemed sparkle when his gaze shifted to their new position. He didn't say a single word, not one.

Tremulous at the best of times, every step was a new danger; perilous to all, the descent of each hoof was not unlike a stone cast off into some pond. Fingers quick to wrap around the sly one's arm before they had even reached the man-made hill, it made some logical sense that she would falter. And falter she did - twice in fact - each time her support there to catch her before she fell.

Obviously it would have been too much to ask for him to always be there, but after the terror of the hunt, it was a relief to be able to lean on another for a change.

 _Sam_... Leaning deeper into it, the one thing she could say that she didn't hate was this.

Eyelids growing ever more cumbersome to keep open, every tick of the clock, every pebble that poured into the pool, every heartbeat was one too many. Treading cautiously down the cut lumber steps one moment, the next her foot felt the unmistakable jolt of hitting empty air. It wouldn't have been the first time she had overestimated where her feet ought to go, and it wasn't even the first time there had been a stomach-lurching consequence. What made this time so different was the belated yelp caught in the back of her throat and the five fangs that caught the foolish cub by the scruff of the neck.

Wise enough to foresee the likely event of a nasty spill in her immediate future, the scavenger held fast to her waist. Reeling his catch in by the excess fabric, Sam had to drop his hold of the thin metal banister to wrap around her front. They hadn't even made it half-way down, and... _she was so warm_. Train of thought derailing outside of the station, in the dark it wasn't so questionable to get a sense of one's bearings.

Hands lingering overlong on her belly, he could feel it rumbling with a ravenous emptiness. Made sense, given that she had emptied the contents not five feet away.

Personal experience the best teacher, Sam knew that food would help absorb some of the alcohol in her system, and water would combat any symptoms of dehydration she might have felt. Also, in the interest of waking her up some, a cold shower might have been their best bet. Except as to that end, Drake couldn't really think of anything that she had to stay awake for. And the rub about keeping her fed was that the mere thought of putting anything back in her stomach might make her sick all over again.

A vicious cycle all around, sleep probably was the best answer for her.

"Mmm?" Half asleep where she stood, the mumble sounded more annoyed than anything else.

Joints tensing beneath the humidity, it was with the thought that he should fill her up again that Sam finally insisted they move again. Toastier than he had expected, her fingers skimmed over the top of his own, the tips starting to settle between the gaps. The warmth must have been due to hiding snug beneath the sleeves of her borrowed shirt. _My shirt_.

An honest (and admittedly not the worst) mistake.

Squeezing ever so slightly, he kept his arms around the long neck. Down the stairs, around the island of welcome, and winding between a motley shelter of huddled figures that were as illegible as they were judgmental, through it all his grip never faltered. What might have been the last of them, the humans they passed were little more than deathly witnesses that scarcely paid much heed to the journey. For them, theirs was just another foray into the wild.

 _Sam_... Locking her fingers through his, the one thing she could say that she didn't hate was this. Hmm, that sounded... familiar? But that didn't make it any less true.

Gratitude a sweet flavor just on the tip of her tongue, the semi-conscious lamb figured that she owed it to Sam to thank him for being there to catch her. _This time, and every time before that_. _Like my very own princely hero_. Somehow, whenever he was around, she managed to remain upright for a change. _Mostly_.

Yeah, she probably should have thanked him, but her mind was already elsewhere.

 _I'm begging you, take me anywhere other than here_. Pleading and pathetic, the words of past Daniella echoed coolly in her head, reverberating off the chilly walls that were slip-sliding ever closer. Trapped, suffocating for air as everything collapsed in on itself... Spinning on an axis that couldn't be fixed to any one place, the room was almost certainly shrinking, each whirling pirouette bringing her nearer to being shut in a tomb. _Her_ tomb, deep in the heart of the Adler family crypt. _I have to get away_...

 _Please, take me anywhere but here. Almost anywhere else would do_.

Delivered from one bleak hellscape to another, the pair tarried beneath the awning for only a moment. Wind gnawed through bone with glacial determination, and the frigid rain lashed out with a bloody vengeance. It had been no more welcoming inside, yet at least out in the open there was something to look forward to. At least there was for the suckling babe. For him, there was just the next stop.

Heavenly dome a decidedly lighter shade of blue, the young woman could feel her spirits lifting in spite of her best efforts to cling to teenage angst. Ebony and pearl, the silver clouds carried her on wings she'd previously believed clipped. Not looking back once, the inheritor of the world pulled away from her wolf and wandered out into the storm.

Just a taste in the midst of rebellion, it was freeing. No one to ask for permission, no mother to passive-aggressively deny, no butler in waiting.

Keats may have been replaced on the payroll, however Daniella wasn't like to forget the buttoned-up penguin-man that had helped see her into all the proper attire. Always kind to the master's daughter, Dells had one particular memory of the faithful Adler family servant digging out a matching umbrella. At her father's insistence no doubt. By the time he had come back, the weather had cleared up and had taken all of the best puddles with it.

Like a true pirate, the girl still wanted to play anyways. Sure, there was every chance that she would catch a cold, but for the first time it was up to her to splash around if she really wanted to.

Breaking away from her anchor and into the sloppy beginnings of a sprint, the heiress needed to feel the water on her skin.

Free from all thought and worldly woe, she hadn't gotten more than five steps before slowing to a stop. Confused about where she was and what she was doing, the young woman paused at the edge of the sidewalk to gather her bearings. Spying what she took to be the Drake's car idling just outside of the hotel, she looked around in mildly alarmed bemusement to see Sam standing just outside of the door.

"What are we doing here?" Nearly drowned out by the rumble-tumble in the sky, she seemed surprised to see that it was raining.

In response, the grizzled brunette could only arch a thick auburn brow.

Vision fuzzy - in the way that it was when you strain yourself to stay up extra late for a reason that's only important to you - the heiress craned her neck for a better look. She might have been mistaken, but his face was quite loud (and rude) as it asked if she was kidding. Or maybe that grumpy-gills expression was just the way his face usually looked...? _Usually, but not always_...

Haunted not quite the right word for it, the heiress was besieged by a sudden audio-visual spark that she couldn't fully fathom.

Mouth opening and closing uselessly, the drunken ingénue felt a funny little tickle in the back of her throat. Almost like baby powder and plastic? Weird. Although maybe it wasn't so strange as just standing in an open area, exposed to the elements. Marshaling her strength to move for shelter, the minute she began to return to Drake her foot slid on nothing and everything, and she was tumbling through the void. A valley of lambs and printed wool on spools... Or were those trees brushing the skyline?

Too heavy to fight, her eyes closed.

Next thing she knew, water was everywhere, gushing into her mouth and flooding all around her body. Clearly not enough of a mess as it was, dingy gray-brown sludge water was running up her neck and pooling up one nostril. Pavement dusted with sand on a dry day, her entire side was caked with the loose muck, and she was fairly certain that she had bitten her tongue. At least she hoped that that was what the coppery taste in her mouth was.

Roaming unchecked over the roof of her mouth, Dells licked her lips before circling the pinkish muscle side-to-side. Spitting out the dirty contaminants, she rubbed her jaw with the back of her palm. "Eww."

Island stones rolling at the oversimplification, the historian tried to ignore the burning stares piercing through his back as he attempted to assist the heiress into a more dignified position. Of course she would have found the most comical way possible to land on her ass. Or, more accurately, her side.

"Maybe next time that'll teach you to down a whole distillery before dinner."

Distillery? Wondering what in the world that was supposed to mean, she blinked up at the man with lost doe eyes. Although they were hardly what anyone could consider to be innocent, full of leering agitation and on the constant verge of crossing.

 _Sam... What are you on about?_ Lifting her fingertips up to his collar, Daniella felt like a part of her was missing.

Rain would have been a convenient excuse for it - it wasn't as if there wasn't precedent for such a collapse - but this sounded an awful lot like an accusation. There was one time this week she might have had a beer with her lunch, however the young woman didn't recall drinking anything since last night.

 _Last night_...

Back on the cozy porch of his younger brother's place, when they'd been treated to those banana sandwiches. _Not bad, but they might have gone over better chips._ _Urgh_ , with a gurgle that could probably be heard all the way in Tibet, her stomach rolled over at just the memory of food.

Cassie had been been sitting with her back to the tide, playing the sun to sleep. Mostly the heiress had been watching the wind chimes and the water, however that had been really pretty, the song that she was strumming. If she wanted to, the girl might've had a future in it. Music. Or anything else for that matter.

Damn her, Cassie Drake had something that she never would - unconditional love and the full support of her parents.

Hole weighing heavier than it had before, the heiress blinked unevenly at the elder gentleman escorting her through thick and thin. Nail digging against the seam, she hesitated, questioning in the back of her mind if there had been anything suspect. She might not have had half the home life that Cassie did, but...

Hazy as if they were being broadcast through a foggy veil, there were a series of moments... Jumbled and horribly criss-crossed, the colored emotions had come at some point after the green light at the end of the pier... A crimson flash of anger, a tempered low of purest azure. Then there was nothing, merely the pure abyss.

 _"Sure ya wanna do this, baby girl?" Whispered into her hair, lips brushed her scalp._

Faint as a secret dream that vanished upon waking, there was something in the back of her head, something important calling out, yearning to be remembered. The feeling of Sam's lips had been too real to be anything less than a memory, however she had zero recollection of when that might have happened. Or what else could have occurred. Struggling against the grain, for the life of her Daniella couldn't figure out what it was.

 _"I hate what you did," absolutely out of breath by that point, the fraction of her that was still hanging on clamored for more, "and I hate what you make me feel."_

What was she feeling, wrapped in his arms and shielded from the worst of the rain?

Barf coming back up for a special encore event, Dells was spared having to answer that question, at least for the time being. Spewing out in a much more demure fountain than what ' _The Exorcist_ ' had popularized, a decent amount dribbled down from her chin and covered the veteran's capable shoulder in chunks. Conceding that he maybe might have been right to call her out, the heiress wiped her chin on the back of her hand.

A tinsy bit parched before the ordeal, she remembered reading somewhere that water would help. Just maybe not from the street...

"S... Sam... I..." Short-term memory shot by a particularly large yawn wielding a shotgun, in that moment nothing sounded better than sleep.

Married to the notion of rich slumber, Daniella wondered that maybe instead of going wherever it was they were supposed to be going, they should just book it back to their room? Back to a nice, warm bed. _Back to a safe place, where I can rest my head against his chest again_. Heavenly as that sounded, maybe it should have waited until after she got cleaned up... There had been an awful lot of icky back there; it might have still even been in her hair.

"I... I..." Instead of apologize for her outburst, the girl trailed off with a soft snore.

 _Great. Just peachy._

Keeping his back to the rabid jackals in the audience, Samuel took a deliberate pause while readjusting the young woman in his arms. Besmirched by the lowly scum of the earth, half of the girl's head was filmed over by the after-wash of the city streets. Clothes already spotted with damp circlets, at least he could say that his weren't rocking a trendy stripe up one side. Body historically susceptible to tremors, every inch that his fingertips scoured were akin to a frozen crust of thin ice.

In a state of recovery still, at the very least the heiress required a change and a good long rest. These last several hours hadn't been entirely kind, and it went without saying that matters should have been handled differently. This, right now, should have been handled differently.

Had this been Nathan... He still probably would have found a way to fuck it up.

Liberated from the role of parental-like figure longer than the young snip had been alive, his little brother was proof that he was far from perfect at the whole guardian thing. The orphanage, Columbia, Italy, Scotland, Madagascar; no matter where they were or what they had been doing, that little punk had almost always done the right thing, even if Sam had disagreed with what that meant. Nathan had been a good kid from the start, so he'd gotten lucky.

For what it mattered, Dells wasn't as awful as she could have been, given who her folks were. Bai Wen and Rafe Adler, a junkie-turned-muscle-turned-CEO and a spoiled psychopath - was there ever a worse pair less suited to procreate? Yeah, there was that old European proverb that said "those who live in glass houses should not throw stones", so who was he to say who should and shouldn't have a child? _Just another hypocrite_.

Genuinely out for the count this time, she didn't move so much as a muscle when he tucked a wet tuft of hair back behind her ears. For practical reasons, of course.

 _If I had told her to stop, would she have listened_? The proverbial million dollar question, Daniella was in a dark place; ordinarily, he had no doubt that she would have heeded his request, but this was on him. Nathan and Elena had made it clear that they held Sam accountable for the heiress, so out of respect for them alone the girl would have obeyed. Before her miraculous return from death, Bai had all but left her daughter to the thief, and it went without saying that her word was law. Everyone that mattered in the girl's life had given him control over her well-being at one point or another, _everyone_. Even...

Running his fingers through his own now-dampened locks, Sam let out a disgruntled sigh. Why should he have to feel so damn responsible for Dells? At the end of the day, she should have been little more to him than a contract, a means to a quick buck. He would have asked himself when he had started caring so much, if he didn't already know the exact moment he could pin it to: that very first night, when she had just showed up outside of his room. Wet, frightened, and too much like his little brother to even think about turning her away.

Who would have thought that him picking egg out of her cleavage that first morning would have led them here?

"Goddammit, Dells!" Growling out her name and not caring if she woke up or not, it would have been easier if he could just blame her.

Making presumptions right out of the gate, the aged adventurer hadn't wanted to see the girl as her own person, because it was easier to swallow when she was just the mirror image of someone else. Practically a perfect clone of Rafe, it served the ex-con's purpose to see Dells as her parents, as a client, as his own little brother even.

A younger Sam was a more selfish Sam, thinking only of himself and his little brother. An older Sam - one that had witnessed the metamorphosis his little brother had gone through, that had lived through (Nadine and) Chloe's determination to do the right thing - was more introspective. He might not have been kinder, per say, but he would at least think how his behavior had an effect on the wider world.

On her. In that unicorn of a world that could never exist, the heiress might have been content with a father that had never died. If not happy, she might have at least been safer underneath Daddy's thumb. In that mythical place between the infinite cotton candy fields and lilac skies, Daniella might have never needed to meet Sam in the first place.

Oh.

 _Dells_... Too many things caught behind his dark gaze, in the split-second it took to examine the girl, the orphan raised by nuns and neglect had managed to find a way to take credit for all of the bad that she had suffered. Angel and Ashley, Rafael, Jay, and most of all, her parents. Granted some of it it been out of everyone's hands, and some of it had been her own fault, but there was somebody else left to blame...

Catholic teachings creeping back to the forefront, a mortal sin was defined as a "gravely sinful act". Though something he now shrugged off, basically what that meant was a major foul was deliberately committed, knowing full well that what you were doing was wrong. Admittedly some of the harder hitters made sense as they were just morally reprehensible actions, but he couldn't agree with a lot of what was so harshly frowned upon - married or not, if Sam wanted someone, he was gonna going try to make it happen.

Exactly like he had with Rafe and Bai. Absolutely a modern twist on Sid and Nancy, the coupling were combustible hotheads, hostile and murderous, neither suited for that kind of life. For family. Definitely not for one another. Although, where did it say that their separation needed to end in Rafe's death? _In a death that was needless as it was_ _voluntary_...

Just the mere thought of those particular events brought another line to her bare frown. Not his rugged rebel's smirk, Sleeping Beauty's permanently troubled porcelain mask.

Rafe was always going to be more focused on his work than anything else, yet Sam had never really pushed the man to spend time with his daughter. Growing up like he had... Well, it was just another thing that hindsight glossed over. Instead of focus on the legacy he had, the multimillionaire chased an obsession that very few could truly understand. But Samuel did. Prestige and glory on the line, that icy bastard had learned of Avery and the possibility that there was a very real cache of loot just waiting to be had, all because a scared kid from the streets was so hot to prove himself.

Had Sam only listened to his little brother's misgivings and never trusted Rafe to get them into Burn's cell in Panama, none of this would be happening now. Beating to death the horse that was 'what if', Daniella might never have fallen in with undeserving pustules if her father was still in her life.

For lack of a better word, after assuming the worst thing she had ever done was petty theft or skipping a single curfew by a small window, the ex-con was impressed with the heiress. Awarding a six point five for imagination and solid eight for execution, he was strangely proud of the girl for showing some initiative. Envisioning a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed schoolgirl, the heiress had already been having an affair with at least one of her educators long before she had ever heard the name 'Drake'.

Originally taking the goateed man to be a stalker when he saw his picture among the surveillance the Orange Tiger had gathered, the grizzled gentleman felt just the smallest pang of something when he connected the dots. Photographs showing a rather good-looking snake oil salesman with a gullible girl that would swallow the pitch with a smile, the name she let slip that afternoon had meant nothing at the time, but now that there was space to think a little more clearly... Well, it was another instance of one plus one equals two. From how it sounded, it seemed to be a bit of a sore spot for her, yet there was no certainty that things were definitively over between the pair.

 _Which was..._ Dismissive about the topic, the heart-breaker wanted to say that it was fine. They weren't going steady or any high school bullshit like that, and the status quo dictated that the minute the next shiny new toy came around, he himself would probably have forgotten all about Daniella Adler. Barely worried that she would pick some other yutz over the real prize, she was free to go blow whomever her little heart desired.

 _Just so long as she makes the right choice_.

Prior to this latest hiccup, it had been vaguely hinted at that Daddy dearest didn't exactly have the cleanest or kindest of exits. Tequila-fueled fire burning through her veins and warming her cheeks in the dark, the young woman's main coping mechanism had been to turn to the bottle. Surviving through hell and back, so far as Sam was concerned she had more than proven that she was old enough to start making her own mistakes.

And if anyone knew a thing or two about mistakes, it was Sam.

Recently, the brunette had added a few more tallies for the books. Seriously, what had he been thinking, letting her carry on like that? Whatever this massive hangover shaped into, Dells never would have felt the need to drink herself into a stupor if he had just thought to share the burden. Or better yet, if only he had been more honest with her, she might not have felt the need to drink in the first place. She was a small enough thing, and liquor was proven to go through women faster than men, so it was probably a small miracle that she wasn't in an actual coma.

 _"I hate what you did," neither able to breathe by that point, despite the tempo breaking to become erratic, there was something behind her eyes, a raw_ _desperation to stay with him through to the end,_ _"and I hate what you make me feel."_

What did he make her feel, precisely?

 _Giving a sample of what to expect in the future, there had been no plan beyond the moment. Pressing her fingers into the mark to make sure it would stand out later, it couldn't have been any more obvious that she craved the same. Moaning out his name just for him, with that single syllable she was begging to be his, yielding to something that she might not have fully understood the repercussions of._

 _Desire dripping like honey from her tongue, Dells said everything that needed to be said, "I need you."_

 _Kissing him deeper and more recklessly than she had before, it had been the cute young thing that brought his hand up along her leg, dragging it gradually to her knee. As a decent, upstanding guy, he'd been inclined to ask if she was sure. Her answer had been to hike up the heavy pinkish fabric of her skirt, guiding his every touch along the way. Devious as any devil to sit a man's shoulder, her lips quirked coyly and she whispered one final assurance. "I need this."_

Naughty little girl. So eager to please, to taste every last flavor on the shelf before committing to a course. Dells had seemed quite pleased by the selection in the store, but the question remained if she would be a return customer. It seemed plausible, given how well the heiress had taken to this afternoon's cherry whiskey sorbet.

More sentimental than he let show, the brunette could also see a fairly legitimate reason that the girl might never return to the shop. Daniella needed him, and if he were to be completely honest with himself, Sam wasn't convinced he could help her. Not the way she needed him to. Obviously he knew enough to get the girl through her hangover, but beyond that?

By the Church's count, Samuel Drake had committed a number of sins that would see his immortal soul damned to hell for an eternity. Sacrilege and simony just a part of the job, apart from the profane use of the Lord's name in vain, blasphemy, and heresy, there was also his chronic failure to attend Mass, although that all boiled down to apostasy. Bleeding outside of faith, there were other crimes as well, including but not limited to: encouragement of another's vices or grave sins, cheating, envy, lying, extreme anger, hatred, scandal, perjury, and endangerment of human life or safety.

Getting back around to the point by the longest possible route, while one wasn't automatically doomed to become their parent(s), if Sam was the best example Daniella had, the girl was as good as screwed.

 **[Meanwhile, In A Mini-Theater To The Left, To The Left]**

Inside the trusty vehicle, all eyes were fixed on the pair hogging center stage. Easily the nosiest of the group, Cassie and her dark-haired mentor made no attempt whatsoever to hide their open oggling. More discreet by nature, the now-caffeinated former mercenary had the decency to pretend that she was still on the phone. In truth Wyatt had gone offline a long while ago, but a small part of her couldn't help but hope that he might call back.

Window to the outside world as plain as they came, while he was without with the rest, Nathan had a more personal stake than the others. On the fence about what his brother would do going forward, Nate grinned that goofy grin of his when he saw Sam leading the heiress out of the hotel. Catching on, Chloe smiled a small smile at her ex before turning her attention back to the players. Daniella, Dells, Ella, Ellie, whatever her name was today, this boded well.

Then came the look of unbridled joy as she spun around in the middle of the otherwise empty parking lot. For just a moment there was a wide beam on the heiress' face that fully met her eyes, almost as if some gigantic weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Tilting her head to the side and observing with honeyed hazel eyes, Nadine could hardly blame the caged bird for wanting to enjoy this first taste of freedom. Even Cassie noted that there was a certain kind of bliss in the young girl's eyes.

 _Heaven help her if Sam ever got around to showing her his bike_. Still, Nathan was happy so long as his big brother was.

Quick as an itchy trigger-finger on the battlefield, something broke down and there was a sudden shift that found the young woman just standing there blankly in the midst of a downpour. Dazed and confused by the look of her, Daniella's first reaction had been to turn to Sam. From the looks of it, there had been some short dialogue said by the lead actress, however as they were lacking proper audio to the show, each of the passengers had concocted their own version of events.

Ever the practical one of the group, Nadine's version was probably the closest to the truth. It helped that she looked at the known facts and had built the scene up from previously known behavior. "What are we doing here?", her version of the heiress inquired.

Situation with their unexpected guest one that she was still on the fence about (although if Ella thought she was going to take her uncle away, she had another thing coming), Cassie foresaw the would-be thief calling an end to things. "Please," sounded like just the thing Ella would start with, "just let me go. I can make all of this go away, but I have to go it alone. Just do us all a favor and forget about me." Though the monologue was bordering on the heroic, the ending was grim at best.

"Hey, I was doing just fine before I met you, I wake up in the morning and I wonder why everything's the same as it was. I'm not loving you, the way I wanted to. I'm in love with you, but the vibe is wrong. Miracles don't happen here. The world will try to tear us apart, but I just can't fight this feeling anymore." Maybe a tad ripped from the lyrics, but Chloe shipped it.

Balanced some place between his daughter and the woman that had once thrown him out of a much larger window than the one they were huddled around now, Nathan's take at least seemed realistic. "You rescued me from my mother, but I can't... I just can't."

 _So help her if she broke Sam's heart_.

Promptly attempting to book it for cover, the heiress completely ate shit, crashing hard on her side. Almost as quick, the leading man was right there, tending swiftly to the klutz before she drowned in ankle-deep water. Crazy as it was, that kind of thing could happen. Chloe swore that she knew a guy that had narrowly avoided said fate, however as Chloe was the source of this information, it was best taken with a grain of salt.

Curtains swaying back and forth as the clouds drifted along the murky horizon, Nate spared only a moment to tell everyone to wait a minute before opening his car door. Content enough with being dry, Cassie sighed at the command and the two in the backseat could have laughed - them, go out there? Ha!

Smart enough to bring his keys with him - not that anyone in the car would dream of locking Nate out in the rain for a laugh - the silvered pup ripped out of the SUV and jogged the short distance to his kin. Close enough to be heard just slamming the door, the younger Drake brother came in at a curve, inadvertently witnessing an entirely different angle from the rest of the crowd.

In that brief instant, one of the single most startling shades of blue to be seen in the wild had to question what it was he just saw. It looked like Sam had just had his hand up by Daniella's face, the pull away what caught the younger brother's eye. But that couldn't have been right, because what possible reason could he have had for such a gesture? Sure, she was probably covered in filth, but when had a little dirt been a bad thing?

Acting as if everything was fine and dandy, Nate casually gestured to the two routes that laid before his big brother. "You two coming or going?" Whichever the case was, Daniella was reportedly heavy enough that his brother could use the assist.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

This. Chapter.

Would you believe it was almost an entirely different beast, written as a three-parter? Honestly I'm still hoping to incorporate that idea into this story at some point, as I really liked it. Alas, it was not to be at that juncture - thanks entirely to Dells getting shnockered. So if anyone was wondering why it took so long between chapters, it's because I wrote the outline for two full chapters and the beginning gist of the third before having to admit that Dells being in her current condition wouldn't work with what I had planed. Back to the drawing board, somehow the intro had evolved and ran away into what it is now. Then, I had to question where it was going to go from there. Thankfully the answer finally came to me, but by that time I was also grappling with Sam's half of the chapter. What you see here is a largely edited, re-arranged, somewhat shortened version. Much as I liked certain bits that I wrote, it just wasn't sounding like Sam. This, I think, comes a lot closer. To be fair, I haven't really interacted with the character much recently (unless you count watching Retro Replay), so I had to brush up and watch some videos on Youtube (oh noes, the torture! _*total sarcasm*_ ;) ). Hopefully all the work was worth it!

I think it was. This is much closer to Sam as a character, and it doesn't feel completely like a recap chapter, which was perhaps my biggest struggle. It feels like there's actually a small bit of forward progression. Or maybe that's just me? Again, reading a story and writing it are entirely different experiences.

Also, all that giraffe/animal stuff was written back when I was going to have this chapter have some soft-boiled ' _The Last of Us_ ' easter eggs. Including the chapter title, which changed from ' _Facets of Us_ ' to ' _Sam and Ellie_ ' to what it is now. No references, this title just feels right, more personal, like it has a certain kind of weight. Ironic, given I'd only ever seen that game as a playthrough on Youtube. It's on my to play/buy list.

Also also, I don't want to paint pictures over what you might already done, but personally when Dells falls, I see Lee slipping in that pool of blood in Clementine's house, all the way back in the very first episode.

Just in case anyone was wondering, the songs used in Chloe's story are: "Closer", by The Chainsmokers (feat. Halsey), "End of the World", by Skeeter Davis, "Love Lockdown", by Kanye West (although I'm partial to the Glass Animals cover), "Miracles", by Stone Sour, "Never Tear Us Apart", by INXS (pick your cover, there are more than enough), and last but not least, "Can't Fight This Feeling", by REO Speedwagon. To be honest, besides the last two, they were the first few songs I heard, but they do kinda fit, in a way.


	66. Just So You Know, She Misses You

**\- Chapter Sixty -**

 **Just So You Know, She Misses You**

 **[Holding Even A Piece (AKA The Present Meets The Past)]**

Power still not restored to any part of the building, the hotel was only growing darker and colder the longer the storm wore on. Accustomed to ruins and private museums with empty corridors that were not unlike those of a mausoleum, chilled marble was something that the businesswoman had acclimated to. Mama polar bear, she had once been called. All but black ice, the wood was just rough enough to remind Bai of home.

House in Hunan a large estate that was easy for a child to get lost in, the bespectacled beauty had grown up with a groundskeeper and a few household staff that seemed to cater expressly for her father and mother. An only child with a sick mother, Bai had had to tend to her own needs more often than not. Even when the lady of the house had taken to bed, and the household staff had been increased in number.

Zhihao had worked hard to earn his place, and his beloved Da's hand. Their daughter would appreciate what she had been given, as all children should.

 _Daniella_...

Waiting in the room her own daughter had been staying in, Bai had grown antsy. Rafe had always used to laugh at her when the silence became too much, reminding the woman that it wasn't a part of her job to do the staff's work for them. As his bodyguard it was enough to keep him safe, and as his lover, it was all about the body. When those roles had evolved, he was always there with the advice to just leave it. He never could understand that it was just something she did, something that helped ease her restless mind and put her hands to work.

Heels abandoned by the door after sweeping up the remains of a broken bottle - it was almost comforting to see that the con was as charming as ever - the top she had used to catch the shards was buried at the bottom of the trash. Where it belonged.

Glancing across the wasted space to see what else there was that needed to be done, the woman went straight to tidying the sheets. Drake and his little whore friend had made quite the mess, and it was unfitting for her baby girl to see. Fair enough, by this point it was probably something that Daniella had been exposed to, however there was no need to just leave the mess. Yanking the sheets back in their proper place, Bai noticed that there was a long, silvery blonde hair across the pillow.

Discarding that trash away with the rest, her bare foot connected with one of the several wrappers that were strewn carelessly across the floor with reckless abandon. Nope. No. Definitely not! Flying into a vigorous witch-like flurry fueled by denial and disgust, the woman's next task was clear to her.

Time slipping through her fingers as she ripped through the room, it must have been at least twenty minutes since she had sent Sam on his way. Bai knew that she should call him to remind him of his deadline, but a part of her was scared to. Drake she could handle, but what if... _What if Daniella doesn't want to see me_? The girl hadn't taken well to learning about the arrangement her grandfather had in mind, and holding a grudge was along-standing tradition in the family.

 _I'm so sorry I failed you!_

Losing Rafe had nearly killed her - to this day, she still struggled to admit that he was nothing but a bad memory - but if she lost their little girl too...

Bai had no memory of when exactly she had gone rummaging through the dressers, only coming to when she was revived by the ghost of a familiar scent. Seated at the very edge of the bed with her toes flat against the ground, there was a dress in her lap. Cradling the fabric as if it were the single most precious thing in this life, the businesswoman held it to her nose and lost herself, just like she had once upon a time when her greatest love had been the snow.

Love. The greatest love of her life had never been the coke (although that had been one hell of an affair).

Heart aching, Bai missed Rafe in that moment more than she had missed him in a long while. Obviously she didn't miss the insults and the constant threats, however there had been so much more than that. Rafe Adler had been tough with just about everyone in the world, everyone, except for once, when he had been a real father.

Shortly before the team had found a listing of items to go on auction at the Rossi estate, Bai remembered the day to be one of the better ones. Rafe had been in a pleasant mood for a change, feeling it in his bones that they were close to something. Nadine had been drilling her men all morning to keep them fighting ready, and Sam was buried beneath a mountain of research at the 'b' site. Nervous about her upcoming trip and having to leave her daughter behind, Daniella was still a little bit sick, right at that stage were it was easy to think you were over your cold.

Nap a short-lived reprieve when you were burning up, the girl must have wandered into the library after waking. No doubt finding her father pouring over a stack of books, she could almost hear the little one asking him to read to her. Just as clear despite the years, it was easy to hear him telling the child that he was too busy.

Determined enough to pick up one of the tomes in an earnest attempt to read it, the girl probably would have struggled for at least ten minutes before admitting that it was far too advanced. Who knew, it could have been longer. Clearly amused by her effort, the proof was in the pudding; taking the child into his lap to indulge her demand and get his work done without distraction, at some point they had both fallen asleep.

Phone capturing the moment forever, when Bai had poked her head into the room, she smiled fondly at the pair. Closing the door behind her back with a soft snap and orders that the two weren't to be disturbed (as if Shoreline listened), the woman let the twosome be.

Provided she was a good girl, Daniella would most probably like to see that picture.

 **[Can't Get Over You (AKA The Future)]**

Plum faded over a wane shade of periwinkle, the lush greenery cut quite the contrast against the sky; already ablaze with the first stars, the golden stickers shone like medals of honor and bravery. Sun a dying blood orange over the fertile countryside, berries and sage ran rampant across the wide canvas. Cloudless, a stilted breeze cast the occasional ruffle, however for the most part all was calm.

Air fragrant with ripe harvestables and the fruity wine being sloshed contemplatively in the sunset, any artist would have been captivated. No matter what trade you employed or subject you tried to capture, there was only inspiration in the world, from the masculine stonework of the villa to the feminine flowers carpeting the rich brown soil. Even the molted spots peppering the innermost corner of the lofty windows were worth a second look.

Mystic fire topaz, from one angle everything glittered with a majestic purple lint, but turn it just a little, and suddenly everything was the very soul of emerald. Or, if you were looking out from behind the curtains, you would be treated to a soft yellowish glow that steadily buzzed a light tangerine the later it got. Comforting to most, the dirt path was the definition of alive, frequently traveled by Corsican hares and European rollers.

Common man could also be found roaming the gritty intersections or admiring the hillock in the distance. The most common of these human types was an older gentleman with a notorious mustache and even more identifiable nickname, one of two brothers that dabbled in retirement and managing a garage, and a much younger woman. These days her thing was just trying to find herself.

Loss was never an easy thing to deal with, not when it hit you young and stole away the person you loved most in the entire world, nor did it get any easier when it came back. Rafe Adler's demise had affected her more than anything else could damage a child; to this day, there were times that she would still cry.

Ass that he may have been, Rafe was always going to be her father at the end of the day. Daniella would always love him, no matter what. Sam often told her that that was letting him off the hook too easily, and he was hardly alone in that opinion. The world reminded her what a monster the man had been when it could, so her friends had hardly needed to join the din.

Sam... He just didn't get it. Maybe that was his cross to bear.

Sighing under her breath as she lit the single grocery store candle on top of the chocolate cake she had baked in tribute, Daniella had more to dwell on than just that pivotal defining moment in her life. Too many had left her life before she would have liked, from the one step-father that had actually cared to the family butler that had seemed to vanish without a trace. That sweet girl lost in her books... Sometimes Daniella missed that fool, wondering what kind of life she might have lead.

 _I doubt she would believe me if I told her that one day, she would do more than just read about lost pirate gold and cursed sphinxes from Greece._

Careful of the flame that burst to life atop the wax column, the woman tossed the lighter back. It seemed to mean a great deal to the man to always have it on his person, although she didn't understand why. He had finally managed to make it for over a year without needing a cigarette, and they were currently in the relative safety of modern society, but whatever. Everyone had their things.

Pocketing the device with a slight shake to see where it was on fuel, the lanky historian turned his attention back to his partner. She'd done this every year that he had known her, making a small offering to all the dead she had buried in her life. Most of them were actual corpses, but a couple of them he knew to be more metaphorical deaths. He wondered glibly who might be added to that list next year.

"Gonna need to buy another candle soon." Not particularly invested in this ritual, he commented on the stub that was defiantly trying its damnedest to stand above the burned lump that had been left in the oven twenty minutes too long.

Humming in reply, she knew without looking that he wasn't wrong - that same candle had been used at least three or four times that year already, and the wick was blacker than obsidian. Still, his lack of proper respect was not going to fly when she was in the middle of her prayer. Neither were what anyone would call religious, although both had some history dabbling in practices of faith.

Daddy. Shen. Keaton. Tennessee-

"So, this thing of yours gonna take long?" Pretending to be in the dark about how long it took her to get through the full list, Sam knew Dells well enough by that point to guesstimate that she was still near the beginning. Watching her from the corner of his eye, he picked up his beer from the cluttered counter top and pressed the can to his lips.

Tsking, the woman took a covert peek at the old man beneath her lashes. Did he seriously think he was being cute, pulling a stunt like this? Every year it was something with him. "Then go away. You don't have to stand here annoying me." Except yes, yes he did. And they both knew it.

Instead of revisit the fight from twelve long months ago, the thief simply took a deep chug, never really taking his eye off the woman. Dells would come around, eventually.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

That's two chapters in two days!

From what I can tell, the last future chapter was the ending section in 38/34 (depending how you want to address my weird ass numbering scheme). Honestly, looking back I have my qualms about having made a flash-forward at all. That's part of the reason they haven't been very prevalent. But what the hell, they exist and mixing things up might be nice every now and again!


	67. Money In The Middle

**\- Chapter Sixty-One -**

 **Money In The Middle**

Brother to brother, Nathan had to hand it to Sam for lugging the heiress around as much as he did. What with how old he was getting. "Am I going to regret asking what happened here?"

Here, as in that existential question that haunted every human being at least once in their life? Probably not. Or was it possible that the younger sibling was referring to the obvious dark marks that peppered the exposed parts of her neck and chest? Although, it just as easily could have been that Nate was inquiring as to the fact they were carrying an unconscious minor upstairs in the middle of the day.

Light as a feather and cursed as a Drake on any collapsible surface, the duo paused at the foot of the stairwell to readjust their grip on the young woman. Hoisting one shoulder up around their necks, the boys waved across the girl at one another before chancing the ascent. Somehow this journey didn't quite feel up to the family motto, however, when it came to the category of questions left unanswered, Samuel had his by the look on his little brother's face.

"I, uh, ran into a little problem."

There were just too many jokes to be made, the vast majority of them at Sam's expense. Sensing this before Nathan's animated expressions could give any of them life, he quickly elaborated, "If you must know, I was working my way up to telling her about Rafe."

That would appease the others at least. Taking the next step with care, the younger of the historians counted how many were left before they hit the correct floor. "So what was the problem?"

Lifting his half of the body before she could slip away and cost them all precious progress, the elder thief purposefully avoided all eye contact, keeping his undivided focus on the rising floor. Was it really just the one? Funny, he really didn't remember specifying. "You seriously gotta ask? You know how much Dells idolizes Daddy Dearest."

Elena could have provided statistics on how many times Nathan had reminded himself not to bring up Ella's old man. "So, how far did you get?"

Sly but not exactly anyone would call subtle, the elder brother's lips tellingly curled until he was barring his teeth.

Boys club built on a foundation of gossip and bravado, there were probably at least a half million replies that could pop into a dirty mind with a question like that. And his big brother had one of the dirtiest that he had ever encountered (honorable mentions going to Sully, Chloe, and Flynn). Never quite matching that same level, Nathan's pensive blues flicked curiously over to the girl balanced between them, mouth falling into a certain kind of shape.

"Not what I was asking." Seeing a lot of vulnerability and the unmistakable desire to be a part of something bigger than one's self, the shorter but arguably more successful kinsman just took the next step in stride.

Perhaps that wasn't the best way for that question to have been worded. Gritting his teeth beneath the strain of dragging around a grown woman and biting back the obvious retort, the grizzled brunette stole a moment to himself in order to try and see it from his little brother's perspective. _Nathan, still the blushing maid it seemed_. Chuckling lightly at the innocence on the kid, Sam peeked over the slumped figure in the middle. "Maybe you should have said that differently."

"Maybe you should," out of his mouth before he even knew what it was he was going to say, Nathan shot back, "say that to someone else instead."

Maybe he should. Not in the habit of listening to anyone's advice so quickly after it had been given, Sam glanced down at Dells before he suddenly found the banister to be very interesting. Out of respect, he brought the conversation back around to where it should have been. "I may have only gotten around to mentioning that I worked with him at the end there." If working with Rafe was what you wanted to call it.

"Seriously, Sam?" Everyone had been on his brother to tell Daniella the extent of how he knew her parents (if only a glossed-over, T-rated version). Having his own past exploits kept secret from Cassie still, he only had so much room to talk, but how was that she had only heard that little? The pair had been alone for hours now, and it took some time to get as drunk as the heiress was.

Oh, that wasn't even the half of it. "It's not my fault! Dells kinda... shut down when she heard that. I don't think she would have heard me even if I tried to tell her the rest of the story."

"Shut down?" Nathan was almost scared to know in what way the heiress had snapped, considering that time she had blacked out and attacked Sam.

"Nah," shrugging it off, Sam shook his head as much as their positions allowed, "nothing like that. It was more like her battery ran outta juice. Once I got her back to the room, she went straight for the bottle." And he went straight for her. Although after earlier, that didn't seem like necessary information for his little brother to be privy to.

Apparently Nathan was more of a mind-reader than he had given him credit for, as the next thing out of his little brother's mouth was, "Please tell me that's all that happened."

Frozen at the top of the stairs for an answer that he almost didn't want to hear (but also morbidly craved), Nathan could only gape at the silence that stretched between them. "Jesus, Sam!" It wasn't exactly hard to connect the dots from there.

"...I mean, she wasn't completely drunk." On the verge of it, maybe, definitely past the boundary of loose lips and false bravery. Also, in his defense, they had managed to sustain a conversation, slurred as her end was.

Nope. Nathan wasn't going down that rabbit hole. Instead, he started down the hall for the room that Sam had given him at the door. "So, what now Lord Byron?"

Lord Byron, that was cute. True, as a fellow man of action there certain similarities to be had, however the gap in written word left something to be desired. No, if Sam was to be compared to any of the great Lotharios throughout history, it had to be the swashbuckling Errol Flynn.

More importantly, an interesting point had been raised. _What now_? Honestly, Sam had no clue, so he did what he normally did and decided to just let things play out as they would. Job priority number one in a certain regard, the ex-con merely blinked at his little brother, "Right now, all I'm concerned with is just getting her to bed. You know as well as I do that sleep is God's cure for a nasty hangover."

Snorting, Nate mumbled under his breath, "Just so long as she wakes up with her underwear on."

Brow arching, the elder Drake could have flicked his sibling straight in the center of the forehead, "What was that, punk?"

"Nothing." Oh, it was definitely something. "I was just reminding you that her mother's waiting in there for you both." Yikes.

Fuuuuuun. "Great."

 **[Lacking Control But Never Power, Except Literally]**

Comfort the faintest hint of her daughter rubbed off on a cheap polyester dress, Bai hastily dropped the lengthy material when the door opened. Creaking on taut metal hinges shrunk from the cold, the portal swept open with a series of janky motions to create a wide berth. Heart dropping like a kidney stone, the businesswoman flashed back to the thief's promise to bring her daughter back by any means. While there was a notable lack of kicking and screaming, it remained to be seen if the girl had been bound and gagged.

Wood slick beneath bare feet, the woman was upright and dashing to the door before she even could register the shape of a large man carrying a young female in his arms. Relief escaping in a small burst of air between her teeth, she exhaled a razor breath at the sight of the pair shuffling through the gloom.

"Honey, I'm home." Hollow, Sam was already feeling the vampiric sucking of his life force as soon as he'd entered the room. Half-wishing that Nathan hadn't said his goodbyes at the door, he could hardly blame his little brother for not wanting to stick around.

Mindful that the bottle lobbed at his head was still probably an active card on the field, the gambler hoisted Dells into his arms bridal-style - careful of her head when crossing the threshold - and carried the sleeping beauty to the bathroom. Fingers automatically reaching for the switch out of habit, he groaned at the error. More than glad to be free of the burden on his back, a too-sober pauper-type placed the princess upon the counter so that she was ultimately leaning against the side of the wall. Knowing that there was no time to even try to cover up her most recent accessories, he started with her shoes.

Lenses flashing almost ominously in the dark at the threat, Bai dropped everything to rush to her baby's side. Had that brute knocked her out to make his job easier, or had something worse befallen her daughter? "Why is she unconscious?"

Wet flats falling to the tile with a soft _thwamp_ , Sam peered over his shoulder at the no-winged harpy. If she was going to insert herself into the situation, the least she could do was make herself useful. "Bottom shelf, dresser-"

"I know where she keeps her clothes. It's the same arrangement at home, I believe." Turning mid-step, the businesswoman made a direct beeline for the dresser closest to the restroom. Not yet getting a good look at her little one nor an understanding of her current condition, she quickly pulled out a buttoned top and pants. Approaching the duo cloistered at the sink, she realized almost straight away that the girl had shirked her more feminine style for menswear. "What I don't know yet is what happened to my daughter."

Skin starting to shiver, Daniella's head sagged into her chest as a pair of large hands rubbed her arms and legs to create friction. In proper light, at least one of the two might have noticed that her lips were on the cusp of turning blue.

Figuring that there was no time like the present, Sam stood aside to switch places with Bai. Clearly he had no problem with doing what had to be done, which in this case meant stripping the girl of her soaked shirt and replacing it with something dry, but her mother might take issue with that. "She fell over."

Harpy just close enough to grab, he guided her reluctant talon up the damp streak on Daniella's side, corroborating his story.

Indeed the girl's side was quite moist, as if she had in fact toppled over. And it was not lost on her that Daniella had been known to be less than steady at times. However this person was not her daughter. Eyes lingering on the same silvery hair that she had found on the pillow, there was no doubt in her mind that this little trollop was the whore she had kicked out prior.

Tilting her head at the man, Bai could have laughed at the insult if it weren't so brazen. "Do you think I'm stupid? That I wouldn't recognize your little friend from earlier? I knew you were the very base of the bedrock, but this is-"

"Wow. Do you pay any attention to your kid?" While there was only a scant amount of light to work with, it should have been obvious who the girl was just by the shape of her eyes. The thin lips or even the bony little chin. Something about her appearance should have tipped Bai off.

Deeply affronted by the accusation, the businesswoman glared true death daggers, "You do remember who's paying your bills for the next year, right?"

Convinced that this washed-up streetwalker was not her little girl, she wanted no part of humoring his lie. _Although_ , that infamous voice tickled the back of her ear, _what if by some chance_... Seething about it, the woman leered beneath her glasses, taking a cautious step closer to the girl in question. Brushing aside a twisted strand of ghostly rope instead of the rich umber she had known, Bai's mouth twitched when she examined the blank face of the sleeper.

Lowering her hand, the woman couldn't say that she hadn't seen a certain resemblance. _So he had a type. Most people did_.

"What have you done to her?" Whoever that girl was, there had to have been a larger story than her just slipping in the rain. _There had to be a reason why the one from Panama was trying to pass her off as her precious Daniella._

"That's rich. What have I done? What have you done?" An unfunny joke from the get, Sam pointed at the heathen in heels. Glasses, apparently, as the heels were nowhere to be seen. "You really wanna know why she's out cold? Dells didn't want to see you. Not that I blame her any."

 _Lies_. It must have been!

Not finished with the shrew just yet, Sam said everything that the heiress should have, "She asked me to keep her away from you. The only reason we're here now is because it's what's best for her. So why don't you leave me to my job and get the hell out of here? You're good at that."

Violet and pursed tighter than Scrooge when he was a miser, her lips had poison of their own to spew, the wounded creature lashing out with whatever she could. "You would know all about that, wouldn't you? Daniella's been hurt enough thanks to you, don't you think? She needs the one person she can truly depend upon: her mother."

"Oh, I'm not going anywhere." Not at this juncture.

"Talk about a switch. You'll be out of her life the minute you stop seeing any profit in it. But fine," the woman was casting her net, testing the waters to see just the kind of creature she was dealing with, "prove me wrong. Stay. Do what you think is right by her."

Sam was too seasoned to take that bait, and frankly, he was too incensed by the implications to back down now. Reminding Daniella's mother of the pajamas still in her arms, he shoved past the woman to stand sentry at the door while heiress was changed. "You first."

Girl once more supported between two individuals as she was dragged to bed, it was the one that cared the most that pulled the blankets up to her chin and tucked in the covers. _Snug as a bug in a rug_. Discarding his own wet clothes and grabbing what was left in the mini-fridge, by the time he'd returned, it was to the sight of Bai cuddled big spoon. Seeing the move less as an altruistic gesture to get the young woman warmer faster and more as a power play, he set his drink on the nightstand and settled in on the other side of the heiress.

Face-to-face with the young woman, Sam's eyes drew invisible lines across her brow, mapping out her cheekbones and the topography of her nose. Head-on it was hard to tell, but look at her from even slightly below, and it was almost comical how much bigger one nostril was than the other.

Hopelessly out of tune, there was music coming from the far side of Isla Dells, a low hum that filled the leaden air. Clutching at the young woman's shoulder with hesitant nails of jade, Bai wanted so badly to believe that this impersonator was her girl that she revisited the song she used to sing when Daniella was just a baby. Silent most nights, it was a tune that the heiress would fall back to when she was overcome.

Utterly surrendered to the world of dreams, the baby tigress seemed to like the music, curling her fingers around the claw resting over her back. So close to the heart.

Beer warmer than he would have liked before the trip to the theater, by the time it was over his drink was like choking down a thick, syrupy medicine. Even still, he drank deep to forget about the position that he was in.

"Don't go getting any ideas." More guilty of enjoying herself than she cared to admit at this or any stage of her life, the kept woman held tight to the stranger in her arms. Denial was a strong thing, but her dislike of Sam Drake was stronger still.

Damn-near done in by fizz, the choking fit came with gasps and a cough so loud that for a split second he was scared that he had actually managed to wake the girl. Turning her head away from the humble dusting of light that permeated the darkness, the heiress wrapped herself against her favorite human pillow, murmuring a single name in her sleep. It might have sounded like 'mama', if it hadn't been a letter too short.

Ideas the one thing he wasn't getting, Sam was going to tell Bai to do them all a favor and zip it so the girl could get some much needed rest, but Daniella did a fine enough job of that on her own.

All the same, why waste perfectly good momentum? "Far be it for me to tell you how to raise your kid-"

Grown too warm for the blankets herself, Bai yanked her arm back from the illusion, snapping irritably at the ex-con that she hated so much, "Then don't say whatever you think it is you have to say." Sniffing audibly from the back, hearing any version of the Adler heiress asking for anyone other than herself or Rafe was entirely unacceptable.

Over the precipice between the edge of the mattress and the island of dead technology, his hand flexed atop the grain. For half a heartbeat, he honestly considered it. Cocking his head at the most covert of angles, the thief looked without seeing, his dark gaze beholding all. Vast promises of wealth, another year staying comfortable, the horizon looked promising.

Breathing in the sweet air of freedom, Sam chanced a peek at his peers. Unlikely bunk mates as they were, this was definitely a story to tell anybody that would listen. The heiress, maybe a little too codependent, and her mother... Sapphire never so threatening as was then, the woman looked torn between hedging her bets and pouncing on a fresh kill. Say what you would about Bai, but he'd seen what the woman could endure for her warped sense of love.

Respect begrudgingly granted, he might have let it be if the woman's glare didn't dare him to open his mouth. "Dells is too polite to say it to your face, but I don't have that problem. I can tell ya exactly where you went wrong with her."

 _Please_. Eye roll palpable, she really didn't care to hear his opinion about this or anything else, although she knew saying as much would only encourage the rapscallion.

Hushed down low, there was only one person that was going to hear the words that were about to come out of his mouth. "You weren't honest with her. About any of this." Merely treating the young woman like she was an equal adult seemed to go a long way, however in his experience simply acknowledging her was enough to do the trick. Bai had done neither this entire time. "From where I'm sitting, you aren't seeing the person she's capable of becoming."

Eerily similar to something he had heard before, a ghost from the distant past came back to bite him in the ass. "You are?"

Can clinking lightly as his fingers fumbled across the sleek aluminium, the historian abandoned his attempt to reach for another drink and instead stared long and hard at the mother of woe and misery. "She likes me a helluva lot more than she likes you." At least for the moment, but they needn't get caught up in the semantics just yet.

Voice sharp enough to lash through a thousand sleepers, Bai scoffed even as she scuttled closer to her prize, "You're beginning to show your age, old man. My daughter loves me."

"No." Firm, Sam shook his head. "She really doesn't." Was it an overdue victory getting to say those sweet words to Bai? Yes, yes it was. It was even sweeter getting to see the look on her face she struggled to find her footing. "Do I really gotta spell it out for you?"

Impenetrable walls enduring the criticism, with a single look down at the girl purported to be her daughter, the defenses and various assurances that Bai surrounded herself began to sink. _What if Daniella doesn't want to see me_? It had been a logical question to ask herself, but she hadn't honestly expected the girl to hold a lasting grudge. Not against her loving mother. _Could it be true?_

 _Lies!_ _More nasty lies!_ Infamous voice tickling the parts of her brain that mattered most, Bai didn't want to believe what he was implying. _Although_ , the dominate voice that had made her such a force within the business world joined the fray, _it does stand to reason._ Returning to that moment not even an hour ago, back when she had first entered the room, the silver-sided cobra could have sworn that she had seen Rafe's eyes staring back up at her in the gloom, lost, confused, and a touch out-of-sorts.

No, not Rafe.

 _Daniella_.

"You're wrong." He had to be. "Daniella-"

"Is a good girl?" The argument was obvious the minute she opened her mouth. "Would never get wasted in the middle of the afternoon? Never stay late after school to work on mouth-to-south resuscitation? Gotta say, she definitely earned that A." Defiant, in that moment he was less interested in the repercussions and more into just giving it to the woman. "Fuck a guy like me? Hate to break it to ya, but your little girl isn't so innocent."

Hugged tightly around the knees by a child that had just lost everything she had ever held dear, Bai remembered the morning of the funereal. Allowed to properly wear nothing but black for the first time, the girl had been inconsolable. Grieving for the love of her life, she had been no better off; the difference was that the woman at least knew to hide her sorrow. But how could a child have known that without being told? Realizing that from that point on they would only have each other, it was enough to get through the long months, the hasty arrangement of Baba's, and the never-ending parade of tears.

Daniella couldn't abandon her now. And certainly not for the likes of Samuel Drake.

 _If that was even really Daniella_.

Seduced by a predictable enemy, a charismatic devil that could weaken even the most devoted of loves. Drake was indeed an incubus in human form, so nobody stood a chance, let alone a virgin. Taking stock of the situation, the cold rationale merely noted the physical change in the girl.

Hair hacked off and lightened to the point of death, her body had been bandaged and scarred beyond recognition, but had that been before or after she had been robbed of worldly innocence? Had his sway been so great that she would turn her back on all that she was? On all that connected her to her father?

Thinking on this more and more as the minutes ticked by with excruciating silence, Bai retracted her arms from around the creature. Perhaps this mangy thing really might have been Daniella after all, but it was not her child. Not the daughter she had shared with Rafe. _Fake_ , the voice cried out with sharp instance.

"Liar." A last-ditch effort at defense, it was clear that she was on the ropes, that she didn't have any conviction to cling to. The evidence was just too overwhelming, from the inaccurate version of events that Logan had painted to the hickeys now smattering the girl's canvas like rot.

Ironically, he wasn't lying, not this time. Brushing stray trail of starfall out of Daniella's face just to watch her mother squirm with the knowledge that he was on the up-and-up on this one, Sam shook his head. "Honest."

"Honest?" Furious enough that this impostor was just the same as her baby girl in her arms, the ice queen seemed to glow ardently in her rage. Bright scarlet with tendrils of wrath and crimson, she had finally found something to latch on to. "You of all people want to lecture me about honesty?!" All but shoving the child away, the businesswoman recoiled until she was just another body laying on a mattress. As for the man that was her bane, she could only scoff bitterly, "Can you honestly tell me that she knows who you are? Can you tell yourself?"

Muttering something in her sleep, the heiress snuggled closer to the thief to compensate for the loss of her mother's body heat. Softening just enough to give it away, his eyes hardened the instant they were off of the young woman. He was honest with Dells. He was! He just wasn't immediately forthcoming with certain details.

"Because I know you, Sam Drake." A one wrong turn deserves another kind of thing, as Bai resumed her speech she noted him flinching away from the harsh truth, "You may be the most clever one in the room, but you're scum. A parasite." Rising, she could no longer stand to share the bed with either of the two. In fact, she had no reason to linger. "Greedy and ravenous, you latched yourself on to a great man. After you finished picking his bones from your teeth, you wormed your way into his daughter. Take her." Leaving with one final say, Bai shoved the girl into Sam. Dells was too conked out to know the difference, but he saw the pure seething disgust in the businesswoman's eyes as she collected her shoes. "Heaven help us all if you're still alive for the next generation."


	68. In This Bed, In The Sea, On The Ledge

**\- Chapter Sixty-Two -**

 **In This Bed, I Drown In The Sea And Hang From The Ledge**

Cutlass nicking the flesh, three fat rubies spilled down the polished blade.

And then she woke up. Kinda.

Surrounded by a crushing darkness deeper than the purest ebony, her first thought was of Jonah, that she had been swallowed whole by some giant maritime monster that was now fodder for cheap sci-fi. Enveloped by a shimmering cobalt haze that masked what was in truth a smothering navy grave, inside the cavernous belly of the beast everything was indigo and midnight. Mold and despair, what wasn't rooted down by hours of agonizing digestion was carpeted in a silvery, slimy saliva. Death at a thousand depths, this was where hope went to die.

Immediately returned to those lost hours in pitch-black hell, the inflamed hole left in her shoulder seared beneath a screw that was no longer there yet never gone. Poked, prodded, and belittled, at least a dozen places on her body burned and ached, each simultaneously reliving the trauma. Steel kiss worse than drowning in toothy bile, the knife bit deep into the bone of her hand, carving Ashley's favorite name for her.

 _Help me_! Voice stolen by a sea witch without a legally binding contract, her vocal chords froze beneath sandpapered pipes. Flesh broiling in the steam of an underwater pocket, the blankets were mildew thick as imitation velvet, a chain twisted serpentine around the prisoner.

Gasp preemptively choked off in her core, a wealth of pearls welled up in the corner of her eyes, a single drop rolling silently down her cheek in the gloom. Spilling noiselessly on the feather pillow, another threatened to follow suit. Desperate to safeguard her diamonds in the vault, Daniella shut her eyes before really opening them.

Part of her dream coming back in the color of a feeling, all the young woman could remember was a cloud; red and angry, it devoured everything in its path. Things had started out as they did, everyone on the island present on a sunken pirate ship. Ribs poking out and heart beating for all to see, Mr. Drake acted as the captain; more judgmental than usual, Cassie was the pet parakeet on his shoulder; coy and stunningly beautiful, Elena was a mermaid on the mast, offering riddles and rhymes. Rafael had been there too, but his role was a stolen mystery now.

Body covered in sweat, the heiress couldn't remember much more than that. Although she did recall Elena braiding her to a plank with a rope made of seaweed, sad that the girl hadn't been able to find her place among the crew. At another point, the heiress had been held at sword-point, but that was after the strange storm had appeared. After the islanders had offered her as a virgin sacrifice. She'd screamed that she wasn't a virgin anymore, that giving her to the celestial would only anger it further, but none of them were listening.

Except for Sam. Invisible to the rest, it was never made clear if he had been Puck or an angel of sorts, but that had been the second time he had appeared before the dreamer. Words spoken so that only she might hear, he had a message for the prisoner, yet that was the point where the details failed. There was a slim chance they had been hopeful, however it was more than likely they they had only spelled her doom.

Hmm, it seemed she retained more of the dream than she originally thought...

 _Please, not again. I can't..._! Terrified of finding herself subject to more torture, whether it be at the hand of a heavenly body or two hipster psychos, the heiress reminded herself that she didn't need to be afraid. She was safe, because she wasn't alone. _She had him._

Counting on a certain comforting presence to be there by her side, the heiress didn't actually see Sam when she woke.

Blinking slowly to acclimate to the light, or rather lack thereof, Daniella usually would stretch out, wiggling her fingers and toes. On cold days she might preface that by pulling the blankets tighter around her shoulders and retreating back to a soft space between waking and sleeping, drifting to a light doze.

When she'd had a nightmare, there was no better protection afforded than the security of a blanket. It worked when she was four and scared of the noises in the cold stone walls, and again some years later when the boogeyman came hunting for his prey. To a lesser degree, the covers had offered a different kind of shelter after her Daddy had died. Nothing could ever match the safety she felt in her father's arms, but her blankets had been infinitely better than Mama's anemic attempts.

Retreat seemed like the right answer now, but it was too hot to stayed covered. In fact, that might have been the reason why she had woken up in the first place. That, or the dream itself.

"Sam?" Voice very very quiet once she found it, the young woman took a deep breath and counted to three.

When there was no answer, her nerves flared like a spark trapped beneath a wet blanket. Absence slightly concerting, she supposed that he might have been in the bathroom. _In the dark_? Not so much as a hint of lighting coming through the cracks, the door was left wide open. A sense of heavy unease trickled over the edges of her mind at the alternative, however there wasn't enough room in her brain. _I can't go back to that place again_... _I won't_!

Cracked on every conceivable level, Daniella called out once more into the night, begging for an answer and not minding how loud. "Sam!"

"Hm? I'm up, I'm up." On the wrong side of the bed, Sam sprang up from within the mattress itself, clothes creased from sitting in one position too long and hair tousled from a deep nap. Clearly weary from standing such diligent guard, he ran his fingers alongside his graying locks. "Oh, you finally-" yawning loudly, he stretched, rolling his muscles shoulder-to-shoulder, "-woke up."

Relief washing over her, she sank back into the bed. He was still there. _Still here with me_.

"Hey, are you ok?" At first it appeared that he was simply checking in on her current status condition, which was understandable, all things considered. Then the old man took it a step further than expected and doubled down, sitting up straight to get a better read on his patient. Whatever all he had seen, Sam's first act was to wipe away the tears glittering in her eyes. "Hey, it was just a bad dream."

Overwhelmed by phobia and release, a trembling hand darted out from its hiding place in the cotton cocoon. Too overcome to hesitate, it rested on top of the man's, clutching tighter than tight. If he'd only known what had been going on in her head just a moment ago...

Too manly to sob further, she poured her heart out into that one gesture. Would even half of it reach him? Frankly Daniella neither knew nor cared - she simply needed to let it all out before she imploded. _I'm so sorry that this is how you have to see me, weak and broken. I wish that I could be stronger, like my Daddy_...

Daddy...?

Something about that line of thought troubled her, although she didn't have much room to dwell on it; forehead splitting open, there was a sharp, pinching pain smacking her frontal lobe in full.

Dream just the blur of a familiar (but none too friendly) face in a passing window, now that Sleeping Beauty was awake, it was probably time to get up and meet the day. Only... with the curtains drawn against the howling wind and the lights off, she couldn't be sure it was even day anymore.

Where had the time gone? The last thing she remembered... shutting her lids not against the natural blue light but the crushing pressure on her pounding skull, the heiress came up blank. It hurt too much to think. Her skin felt withered, dry lips cracked open, and marrow replaced with iron; it was a feeling she had known before.

Head weighing a good ton now that she paused long enough to notice, the room spun even as she laid there, tilting back and forth on a swaying deck lost at sea. Woozy from an empty stomach, the dizzy spell was more than low blood sugar - it was an old acquaintance. More enemy than friend truth be told.

Situation made clear to the young woman, between the lack of her anchor and roasting alive, the answer was obvious. Rum-soaked and feeling it, the heiress just wasn't thrilled, knowing from first-hand experience that it wouldn't feel particularly grand on her system. Still, that was probably a better thing to focus her mind on, rather than that unshakable sensation that Angel and Ashley were hiding in the wings, biding their time. Acting on instinct, Dells kicked the covers off. Legs obeying the command like a rubber band in jelly, they may as well have been made of damp sticks coated in crude iron for how weak she felt.

Nausea restricting all movement beyond that one simple action, in came her knight in shining armor to finish the job for her royal majesty. Much cooler without the brunt of the blankets bundled over her body, she thought that the selection in pajamas was a bit much for the weather. _Also, when..._? Without missing a beat, the historian one upped himself, reaching over to the nightstand to hand her a glass of lukewarm tap water.

Greedy in her suckling, the heiress downed the liquid almost as quickly as he had produced it, sloshing some down her lips and over her clothes. Messy, messy. "Whoa, slow down there baby girl."

 _Baby girl_... Another trigger went off in her head, pointing at a target that remained hidden in the fog. Just what was she missing?

Aware of how blank the slate was, Sam knew that he had hit the end of the road, that it was past time to come clean with the girl. Her mother might have backed off for the time being, but she certainly wasn't going to keep quiet about any of this, and Dells would probably take it better if it came from him. Knowing that didn't make it any easier to face the music.

Empty, the glass was returned to the sender with the intention that it be filled again. With no insurance that she would heed his advice and relax, the thief set the precedent, getting to his feet in no great rush. Obviously taking his sweet time to fulfill the order, he flashed a crooked grin as he sauntered into the restroom, warning her with a single word before flipping the switch. Sure, he'd made the trip to the bathroom in the dark before this, but now that the power was back he was planning on making the most of it.

Scavenging through the cabinets for a nondescript bottle of acetylsalicylic acid while the facet was running, he gathered a new set of bandages while he was at it. Between the chill of the rain and how long the old ones had been left on, it was probably overdue. Like so many other things.

Fair maiden waiting yonder, he brought the supplies after delivering the young miss her medicine, just in case she decided to down an entire glass of water in one huge gulp again. Honestly he wasn't sure how many times he would refill her goblet (admittedly, just like if it had been Nathan, it would have been as many times as necessary, but she didn't need to know that) however it was her bladder that would pay the price first.

"Here," tossing her the pills and setting the wrappings down where the water had been, he moved around to the other side of the bed for the crackers he had had brought up once the phone decided to work again. Ideally he could talk her into something more substantial, such as toast or possibly even eggs.

Nah, not eggs... There wasn't enough cleavage to catch what her mouth inevitably would miss.

 **[No Time Like The Present, No One like...]**

Midnight the cut-off time for fairy tales to lose their magic cheats, the duo were definitely sitting later into the night than the expiration of Cinderella's pumpkin. Hydrated, fed a nibble large enough for a mouse, and served a mild dosage of over-the-counter aspirin, the heiress was at last well enough to hear what it was he had to tell her. Rather, she was as close as luxury would allow.

Laid on the bed with their collective gaze on the ceiling and backs more or less to the headboard, he was resting his chin on her head; once they began, it would be more convenient to stare at the TV screen as opposed to the young woman. Eyes half on the menu, Dells was more interested in curling against Sam, one arm out to stroke the edge of his wife beater. Her knee kept bumping into his, but he chalked that up to her just trying to get comfortable.

 _Good luck, her jitters seemed keen to stay_.

"So is that all of them?" Inquiring earnestly about his ink, her fingertip traced the fading outline of one of his first tattoos, catching at the northernmost point of the star. With how many times he had seen her body, it was almost unfair that she had never seen all of his.

Could she handle seeing the nasty bruise she had left on his torso? More green-ish brown than purple now, the mark on his cheek was a none-issue. After everything, the rampage seemed like a small enough thing, and they barely hurt any more. But no, if anything he was sparing her from that pesky sense of responsibility he'd heard tale of.

Cheeky, he dropped a variant of an old classic, "If you're good, I'll show you my other tattoos sometime."

Dazzled and dazzling, her eyes sparkled at the promise. "Maybe you can take me to get one sometime." Had she felt even a little bit better, this might have been the perfect moment to make a pass. Probably worth it in the end, her attempt to play the demure princess would have been awkward from her limited range of motion and held back by inexperience. Instead she settled on picking some old movie, shifting yet again for her stomach's sake. "Gotta cover up if I ever want to go to the beach like a normal person again."

Peeking down at the patient, he tried to guess what she might get to cover the nasty scar on her shoulder. Something girly, yet also dignified... Perhaps some kind of floral motif in the form of a plant? A cherry bloom sprig, perchance? No, that was far too cliche - if Dells went that route, he gave her enough credit to be more original than that and at least change it to something like a plum or orange blossom. Whatever it was, he had no doubt that she would agonize over the design for far too long. _Or not nearly long enough, if her taste in men said anything_.

Black and white title screen displaying old-fashioned credits, the music swelled as the color seeped into the picture. Stealing the remote from her lap, Sam turned the volume all the way down. "Screw normal."

"Right?" Chuckling her agreement, she looked as if she'd wanted to say more, but then had suddenly thought better of it.

Assuming was always a dangerous game, but if the man had had to guess, he would have said that depending on how the wounds healed, she might have considered bearing them for the world. Proof that she was brave, and a survivor. The hangup was probably one-third her mother and two-thirds having to face what had happened on a daily basis. With just a dash of luck, the marks might have been small and pale and only noticeable if you knew to look, but realistically that just wasn't Angel and Ashley's style. They wanted their work to be seen, to be known and remembered.

"Why the hell not?" Getting back to the request, if they were even still speaking at the end of this thing, it could be fun. Besides even if he didn't get anything new himself, he had some work that could use touching up.

Really smiling - there was no hiding it when the light reached the powdery blue in her eyes - the heiress snuggled closer to her protector and ally. _Better_ s _avior it old man_ , snide even in his own mind, Sam knew that this moment wouldn't last much longer. Correction: couldn't.

"Dells," name sticking like glue on the roof of his mouth, that peanut butter taste lingered all the way back to the stem of his tongue, "how - uh, how much do you remember about today?"

Head tilting back so that she could get a better look at the man, while the change in trajectory had clearly caught her off-guard, she was immediately suspicious. And why shouldn't she be? Hedging around the fact that it obviously wasn't a whole hell of a lot, there was an obvious lack of desire to answer. Eyes conveying much and more in the way of doubt, he could scarcely blame her when she'd been under the impression that things were going so well.

"Why?" It was a simple enough question, on the surface.

As opposed to answering outright, the tatted traveler tried to warn her with a single look. Neither charming nor cocky nor any other thing that her mother might accuse him of, Sam snatched her wrist. Holding her in place to cease the fawning, his grip was steady, measured enough so as to not harm or scare the little one off. Words a lost currency, he didn't force her away, but he was no longer encouraging her either.

Like he used to tell his little brother, best to just rip the band-aid off.

"Your mother stopped by." Of the several places to start, Sam figured that he may as well just get the most recent drama out of the way. Bai was a disaster in her own right, but Rafe... That might take the rest of the night.

"Mama?" Identifier automatic, Daniella wanted to take it back the second it poured out of her mouth, however that would have expended too much energy on the woman. Besides, she really didn't have a terribly great name to replace their legal blood relation. "And you got rid of her?" The heiress wasn't horribly sad to hear that; in fact, she was impressed. Her mother was not the easiest person to shake.

Not really getting much out of that, the young woman realized that there must have been a damn good reason. Mulling over what she already knew, Dells pieced together that she had suffered a massive hangover for a reason. But what? Was it her mother that had driven her to get blackout drunk? _No, that didn't seem right_... The traitor had burned her last bridge, but at present that wasn't the kind of thing that would lead head-first into the bottle. Something wasn't quite adding up.

Virtually the closest thing she had to a paragon of truth, to her knowledge he hadn't lied to her. Not yet. It would be a poor time to start now. "Sam, that's not all that happened, is it?"

Facing his consequence like a man, the ex-con gave his head a firm shake, words rooted deep in certainty before coming out into the world. "No."

Pulling herself up into a sitting position, she discovered that this wasn't going to work if they couldn't see eye-to-eye. "Care to enlighten me?"

Jokes were the final defense he had left, and damn if he was going to go down without some kind of a fight. It just wasn't in him, not even for Nathan. Not even for his own sake (honestly, he couldn't even begin to count how many times his enemies should have just killed him). "Sure you don't want to cover the mother stuff some more?"

"Should we?" Being lost and confused was nothing new for the heiress, yet this felt like a rare opportunity for her to change that. So far as her mother went and what the visit had entailed, it was easy enough to imagine that the woman had only come sniffing around to mark what she thought was her territory. Based on her own feelings, Daniella figured that she had refused... assuming that she had been in a position to do so at that particular point.

In all seriousness, yeah. "Probably." He shrugged it off as some small thing, but there was potential for this to bite them both in the ass if Bai had anything to say about it. "She isn't very happy with us at the moment."

"Us?" The word caught in her throat, sounding more like a bad line reading from a shitty actor than something an actual human might say. Troubled, the heiress felt like she had slipped on a sheer cliff face, fingers unable to find purchase.

To Sam's ears, those two letters were strained, like the croak of a boy hitting puberty. Extracting a single rope, he grasped the only visible lifeline in his hand, "I may have told her... certain things." Gone up in smoke, the braided cord slipped away and fell into the ravine below.

"What things?" Thin, there was a new type of danger laced in her tone. Fair enough, given how they were stranded in place.

Silence: searching, searing, penetrating silence met her question. Scrabbling through the dark for a hold that didn't exist, he could only come up with one answer. One simple answer. _The kind of things that mothers never want to hear about their children_. If she had been anyone else, Sam might have put that sentiment into crude, uncaring words. But this wasn't just anyone else. This was his little brother, the orphan he had been trusted with, the little girl that he had gone to bat for, the young lady that he had made a woman. This was Dells.

This was Dells.

Daniella (pretty sure he never caught a middle name) Adler. Sleeping Beauty herself, the heiress, the daughter of a psycho and a shark, his baby girl.

 _This was the orphan he had been entrusted, the little girl he'd elected to defend_. So on some level, it was fitting that when it came to her, Sam was as guilty as they they came.

Taking the Lord's name in vain (a lot), a little rub and tug, the use of one single contraceptive, and enough fornication to fill a smutty erotica. Simony and sacrilege intermarried; as did lying, cheating, and adultery. He'd felt hatred and envy, had incited scandal, and stooped to committing perjury. Much like sacrilege and simony, heresy and blasphemy, there'd also been encouragement of another's vices and ample endangerment of human life or safety. Some of these sins had been minor enough, if not indirect. Others, not so much...

 _This was the young lady I made a woman._

Flings were nothing new to the ex-con. Hell, one could even make the argument that they were his second drug of choice. _Except, there was something about Dells that wasn't just a one-night stand. Not quite._ All the ingredients were there, and it would be a wise move for everyone's greater benefit, yet... He didn't hate the idea of her sticking around a bit longer. She was good with his family, and Christ knows she was better behaved than Chloe. Maybe if he asked really nicely, they would let him keep her.

Dizzy spells kept at bay due to the crackers Sam had had the foresight to have ready and waiting, she still felt like the world was spinning out of her control. His refusal to answer her question only made it worse, like there was a pit under her feet that had been dug too close to the surface to hold her up much longer. "What did you tell her, exactly?"

Pre-falling sensation heightened by almost twenty years of built-up resentment, for as much as she claimed to be done with her mother, this was what made it feel real. If whatever Sam had told Mama was the catalyst that made her own feelings heard, she wanted to know how accurate the message was.

"Sam?" It wasn't as if he had to lie to her.

He knew that, right?

Palm landing just north of the knee, culpable eyes shown bright in the electric glow, dancing on the rim of contrition. A swinging rope bridge that had long ago fallen out of code - if indeed it had even been made to the standard - the arm connecting the pair was a faint ray of hope. Now was not the time for action, but it was plain to see that the same desire bound one to the other. That one single look said they might survive this mountain yet. Provided of course that there were no causalities.

Simple answer the first off the silver tongue, the historian knew how precarious these things could be. "Basically that you're an adult now. That she needs to trust in you." As they both knew Bai, they knew that that wasn't a good enough reason for her to just leave like nothing. No, if the businesswoman had taken the time to see to her child, she wouldn't go without speaking to Daniella. Taking it a step further than flimsy half-truths, the thief folded, laying his cards on the table. "And I may have mentioned some of your history. With your teacher... and me."

Blank space in the brain buzzing, the heiress cocked her head, "How did you know...?

"Common sense." Face a mixture of appalled and confused, he was kind enough to explain. After all, Dells had a thing for learning a lesson, didn't she? "No one is that good without practice."

Okay, she would admit that that answer might have held up in a court of law surrounded by their peers, but that didn't explain to her how he knew about her shadier extracurricular activities. If they had managed to find a way around her mother's anal security team, then there was zero chance anyone else knew. Right? If there were indeed little people living in her head, this was absolutely the time to press that red panic button.

"Jay, unless I'm mistaken?" Gruffer than he'd intended, Sam didn't leave much room for her to finish her train of thought. "Our Orange Tiger friends are keeping tabs on you. On all of us." Well, Logan and Chloe at least, and so far it seemed harmless enough. "He's cute. I can see why you would want be the teacher's pet."

Part of her brain just broke, hearing Sam say the word 'cute'. However, for the parts that were still functioning, the teen jumped right into the defense Jay had taught her to use in such a situation, "I don't know what you think happened, but I'm just a teacher's assistant." And she was hardly the only one.

Really? After all that they had gone through together, she was gonna try and play that game? Fine, if the snobby schoolgirl wanted it that way, he had no problem blowing the foundation sky high. "So much for honesty."

"I'm honest-"

Clutching for any rock that wasn't tumbling down into her face, he watched her squirm from above, nigh on the verge of being impassive about her fate. On the surface. "Not if you're sticking to that story."

"Excuse me?!" Now there was the princess, so quick to remind him who it was that had dropped the rope in the first place and left them stranded. "I'm not on trial here!"

Oh? Well wasn't he just so relieved to hear that when they were dangling over a precipice. "Look, I don't care that you learned the clarinet at school. For the uninitiated, such as yourself, that means sucking dick." Sam had enough partners for the both of them, and bitter snark. "I'm just disappointed that you're trying to lie to me after I told your mother that you were an adult." That Daniella had the potential to be one of the good ones.

Finally it was her turn to answer him with an abundance of silence. Dells might never know what precisely had happened while she was out, he had defended her to her mother. _Sam had stood up to the evil fairy queen, and he did it for me_. He did so much for her, and she had repaid him in such an ill manner. He should be disappointed.

Saying it like that, the heiress couldn't deny that she had fucked up. Quite possibly badly at that. "You're right."

About to combat whatever classic adolescent excuse she attempted to cook up, the thief had the air let out of his sails, "Sorry, what was that?" If he were being adorable, the man would have taunted her with those words, egging her on to repeat them so that he could savoir the sweet taste of vindication. But no, it was her turn to blindside him apparently.

"You're right." At the risk of sounding sappy and leaning too hard into something that had yet to be established, the young woman touched him lightly upon the arm, adding a much-needed support beneath the wooden beams and frayed rope. "I owe you better than that. I'm sorry." Apology sincere, when the excuses came it was without thinking, without considering that it was Sam. "You're not just anybody. You've saved my ass more times than I can count, and... I trust you, Sam."

It might have been better if she had just said she loved him. He could handle that song and dance, things like feelings and empty allegiances of devotion, but trust...? Trust wasn't something so easily given, and in his experience it was too easy to break. "You shouldn't." He wasn't the guy that you trusted. He was the guy that broke your trust and made you swear to never do something so stupid ever again. "When I told Mommy Dearest about us... it wasn't just implied. I told her in no uncertain terms that I fucked you good." Nothing seemed to break a heart faster than hearing that things weren't what they seemed, so maybe it worked that way for trust too.

If she had read more romance, it would have been painfully obvious that this was the part where he lied to illustrate that he was no good for her. But that wasn't the kind of thing the young woman buried herself in, so she didn't know any better than to believe the in poison apple.

Unfortunately for this trope, while it hurt like hell to hear the words said in such a manner, Daniella hadn't let herself think for a single minute that they had anything deeper than a fling. Maybe she might have dared to hope for a just a moment that they could keep this thing going into the real world, however she wasn't greedy. She would take whatever she got, because she was (as the cliche went) just lucky that he'd noticed her in the first place.

Having said that, that didn't mean that the heiress was thrilled to learn that her mother knew. "That wasn't for you to say."

Committed to the narrative he had began, the adventurer wanted her to rue those three words. "I told her so you didn't have to. Correction: try and fail to." Once again, he threw her hands off. "Really Dells, you should be thanking me for this too."

"Oh, fuck you!" Right wrong button (or wrong right button, depending how you wanted to look at it) pushed, Dells would have slapped Sam if she had had the strength. Wraps still laying on the table for later, for just a minute it crossed her mind to use them as a weapon. Lucky for the thief that the only thing she could do was feebly shove at him. _Absolutely pathetic_. "You did not just tell me to be grateful to you for being a selfish prick!"

Language not really an issue for him - clearly - it was her calling him a selfish prick that brought out the usual faux-outcry, "Hey! I'll have you know that I don't answer to that name." Sam was one of three selfish dickheads, but that was an old joke between work colleagues. Half-smiling at the memory, the man took a page out of Nate the Great's book and offered the vanished lifeline, "After all we've been through, it hurts that you-" Sam was going to say 'don't trust me', but he improvised like a pro, "-think so little of me. If I didn't care, would I tell you the reason why you tried to drink yourself into oblivion?"

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

Woot, party! Seriously, happy two-year anniversary!

It's been a hell of a long time getting to this point, from life and plans dying to natural evolution to what we have now. Hopefully there was a few collective titters at the least lol. For the anniversary (which I was admittedly concerned I'd have this chapter out too late or too soon), I think it would be fitting to give a little insight into things, or some other 'yay, you made it this far' gift, but alas, as I write this ending blurb at like three in the morning, I can't think of a single thing to give you, awesome reader.

The factoid that the prologue was called "Winds Of Her Whim" because the character names all began with the letter of a direction? And I lost the second thing... Rad. Oh! I remembered! That in some chapters if you read the first letter of each word it spells something out? Half the time that happens by accident, but by like the second or third letter I'm like, 'hey, that could/does spell a word'. Once or twice that's been intentional _*cough* CLASSIC PAM *cough*_ (okay, so technically it's Pam classic, but I just saw Dirty Grandpa a month or so ago, and it's totally sticking with me). Anyways, yeah, nice little random facts. Fact? Dunno. What I do know is that THERE ARE PLANS FOR THIS TO GO FORWARD!

By that, I mean a potential sequel. If I make it remains to be seen, especially as I'd love to finish this first. Although, instead of calling it a sequel I could call it a spin-off? In addition to that little Halloween one I started... Which, another fun fact: that had two versions, a smutty one, and a "T-ish with a plot" one. You know, if I ever look at anything other than the three or so main stories I'm working on. Point is, I have a lot of ideas for this world.

Also also, this is a question that will probably go unanswered for one reason or another (my bet being lack of response or me just being too impatient to wait), but as there is a very specific number coming up, I'm wondering how mad y'all would be with a smutty little chapter? Not sure if it'll remotely make sense with the current trajectory of the story, so I'm hesitant... Hmm, guess we'll all be surprised in the coming chapters lol

Again, HAPPY TWO-YEAR ANNIVERSARY! AND THANK YOU FOR READING THE STORY SO FAR!


	69. All Things Exposed

**\- Chapter Sixty-Three -**

 **(Almost)** **All Things Exposed**

 **[Warning: explicit content]**

Well that certainly caught her attention.

Infuriated to the point that outraged indignation was the drug, Daniella's deep blue blood was boiling more than she would have ever thought possible. The unmitigated nerve of him! To not only say such a thing, but threaten to withhold precious information...! Urgh, it just... it just made her want to hit something! To bash, mash, crash, and pummel! To take the lighter to the house and block all the exits!

More tangible than a whisper in this scarlet blood lust, the heiress could hear her late father's voice in her ear, encouraging his daughter to succumb to black tendencies. " _You're an Adler. We act, we don't just lay down and take it_."

Had that actually been something that her father had said to her? A vindictive word of wisdom to the next generation? Frankly too burnt up to even attempt to recollect every single conversation they had ever shared, Daniella couldn't remember for sure. Although seeing as she had already let down the woman that was formerly known as her mother, the heiress had to try to appease at least one of her parents in this life. How else could she prove that she was a good daughter?

"Are you kidding me? I just finished telling you how much I think of you, and then you tease me with something that important? Seriously, fuck you!" Anger a blinding vermilion light that erased the polished veneer down to its darker roots, the madder Dells got the fouler her language became.

Now there was the Rafe Adler that Sam had known, a bitter bastard that wasn't nearly as refined as his money would let you believe. "That an offer?"

"Fuck off." Uneven nostrils flaring, that wasn't a refusal.

Buttons just begging to be pressed, it was impossible to not push every single one on the panel. Even if some of them where only up there for display. "Geez, someone's cranky. You need to get more vitamin D."

Scowl not disappointing, the young woman glared at the man, hating everything about him, from that stupid cocky smirk to the graying auburn locks that she wanted to run her fingers through even now. Punishing herself for entertaining that kind of thought for even a second, she crossed her arms around her chest, fingers tucked away beneath her elbows. "I'm not cranky! You're just a dick."

Fueled by the desire to stay angry, had he not irritated her so much, she might have at least felt torn between sullen rage and getting those answers. But no, the jerk had to go and get under her skin in all the worst ways, burrowing deep. _So deep_...

Legitimately getting a kick out of how riled up she was getting, the red on her collar couldn't have been any more obvious. But fun as it was watching her be pissed off at every tiny thing, he knew from experience how much it bit the big one to be hungover and a ball of fury. For her own good, he made his first actual threat, "Don't make me put you back to bed, little girl."

"I'd like to see you try." Leer souring, Dells clearly doubted him.

She must have forgotten about that time he had made her breakfast in bed. Turning off the TV to make a point, Sam gave her a chance to behave, quietly observing her reaction. Seething just because she could, the girl fumbled for the remote in his hand, digits clumsy as they completely missed the plastic rectangle. Honestly not all that shocked she blew it, he rolled to his feet and stalked to the end of the bed.

"Hey!" Green around the gills, Daniella squealed as the thief grabbed her by the ankles and yanked her all the way down so that she was laying flat on her back. Like a tortoise trapped on its shell, the crabby heiress squirmed helplessly as the predator descended. "Whatta think you're doing?!"

Ignoring the marshmallow blows of the young woman as she fused around, he proceeded to reach for the bandages on the end table. Stretching over the heiress, as the space between them whittled down to nothing, the adventurer intentionally brushed against her, "What's the matter? Don't you trust me?"

Words turned back on her, Dells paused for just a fraction of a minute. Just long enough for him to tug at the hem of her pants so that he could change out the Ace. Long enough for him to get the cotton pajamas down her hips. And long enough for him to realize that when she had removed the damp clothes from her daughter, Bai hadn't replaced her underwear.

No pink satin bows, no double black strands, no baby blue lace, white fields or red floss; there was nothing there to keep prying eyes at bay or wandering fingers away... _Her own, or someone else's_... Temptation a genuine affliction, it would be lying to say that he didn't regret starting from the bottom.

None the wiser as to why Sam was suddenly staring at her the thirsty way he was, all it took to understand was to follow his gaze down, over the expanse of the butterfly cage that was her stomach. Crawling lower still, to the point between her legs. Flushing at being the center of attention, as her heart beat in conjunction with her head she couldn't help but ask herself if this had been his intention the entire time.

Again, she found herself torn at the crossroads. On one hand, he was dangerously close to her, and there was more blood flowing than she knew what to do with. On the other, there was still that pesky sensation of nausea hanging over her head. Yet, they were so close, so deliciously, perfectly, perversely close...

 _You're an Adler. We act, we don't just lay down and take it._ Take that last bit off, and it sounded like some great advice.

Figuring that it wasn't for her to question her Father's wisdom, Dells kissed Sam; deeply, wildly, the way she'd been dreaming of. Unable to keep her hands to herself all morning, as innocent as it had seemed the snaking of her arms and even the jitters in her legs suddenly made sense. It had been building in the background, hiding just behind the red curtains in her mind. Curling up against him sober was nice, but this... It felt good. And she wanted to feel good.

Logic a concept too highbrow for the moment, the healthy part of the heiress knew that she should pursue the truth he had teased, but what if she didn't care for the answer? Or what if it was some life-changing thing that she should be focused on? No, there were too many questions. It was simpler to just feel. Feel him against her, their bodies against one another. His leg between hers as he crawled back onto the bed. On top of her.

Sam didn't mean to end up in this position, he really didn't. Gaze all but zeroed in on a whole island paradise ripe for the plundering, the song in his blood had been stirred by the treasure map falling into his possession. Finding unlikely inspiration in the thigh rubbing up against him, all hope of resistance died when she kissed him. Bandage falling out of his hand and rolling to the floor, intention didn't have much more to do with it.

"Dells," name barely escaping in a pant, the girl was determined to suck the very air from his breast, "hold your horses."

Hanging in there like a pest that just wouldn't die no matter how many chemicals you used or number of times you tried, his conscience told him that this was the last stop on the the road to the point of no return. She wasn't well, and he still had serious business to hash out with the daughter of his ex-partner. _So then why do I want to ravish her_?

Persistent as that final shred of decency, Daniella was that combination of fire and hurt that he knew so well. "Don't you want me?"

 _Sweet Jesus_ , the thief could barely remember a time he wanted anything more. And that was before the heiress had found his joystick, hands no more graceful than usual as she stroked the tented polyester. _Think of her health. Think about her health. Don't think about how good he felt underneath the fabric... Think about her well being_. "Stop."

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, she was starting to get the answer her dark little heart desired. Sickly deriving pleasure from his torment, the young woman grinned evilly, "Do you really mean that?"

 _God, no._ The evidence was in her hand that this was very much what he wanted, and it was only getting harder, "Baby girl..." Too many things at once, the one thing his plea wasn't was him telling her to back off. He'd tried that already.

"Let's finish what we started, shall we?" Stroking the growing outline of his cock, the not-so-innocent heiress wrote some very large checks with the ravenous glint in her eyes. Checks that she might not be able to pay in a single night.

Relenting to the fact that this was going to happen tonight if for no other reason than because she willed it so, that sounded more than fine in his book. Trouble was, this really wasn't the time or place to resume their hate-fuck. "I don't know if the bed can take that kind of abuse again."

"Bed?" Freezing as if the extension ceased to compute, the heiress arched her brow in confusion, "I'm talking about the beach... When did we...? Oh." So they had found the time to have another go? Curious to know what that had been like (she'd try and recall it later, if she could), Daniella wondered briefly if that had anything to do with what he had told her mother and why she had left?

Screw it. Melting her core from within, the burning in her belly was too hot for slowing down now. They could deal with that later if need be. For now, she needed him inside her. "Fuck me. Give me some of that vitamin D." In truth he'd probably meant the actual vitamin, but again, something to pin for later.

Well shit. At least she took that better than he'd imagined she would. _Maybe the key was to sex her up every time had to break bad news_. Only half joking about that, Sam ended his idle streak, moving his own hand up to her lips. Still cracked and flaking off, he drew circles over top of the skin, noting that she was going slower than before when sucking his index into her mouth. Made sense he'd have to take it extra easy on the girl, between the hangover and shaking off that white mantle.

Tongue working overtime, she hoovered the busted joints until the tip was scratching the back of her throat and his knuckle was palm-to-palm with her lips. Sufficiently greased up sooner rather than later, the young plaything retreated enough to add in a second digit. Saliva lubricating the middle finger as well, Dells maintained steady eye contact with Sam, using him once more as her anchor point.

Pads toughened by years of climbing, the thief's fingers were different from anything the pampered princess was used to; using this to his advantage, while she did the honors of preparing the troops for invasion, the leftover grunts carried out the ground work. Covering the outside of her mound, Sam cased her slit and ran parallel to the outer folds, flicking the bundle of nerves at the top of the cave. Indeed in want of him, she shivered into his touch, jerking as he searched the inner folds.

"Mm, it feels like I've been sitting on this since that night." Last night, was it? Oh, who the hell cared when her body was tingling the way it was. It was even helping to keep her mind off of how badly her head was throbbing. The little aches of every square of flesh and bone.

Once more in control of his right hand, Sam exchanged the prep team for the deep divers. "Just relax baby girl, I got ya." Lightly smacking her hand away when she got to the final two buttons on her shirt, his smirk told her that he rather liked the sight of her half-dressed. Getting the hint, she laid back and let his fingers probe away. "Then we can call you four for four."

Four for four? "Jesus, Sam, how many times did we do it?"

Did she mean in total, or just when she was completely shitfaced? Because either way the answer wasn't all that high. "Just the once. Call me crazy, but I draw the line at unconscious."

Trusting him (more or less) in all the ways that mattered most, hearing that made her feel a little bit better about that much at least. "So this will be be three..." Unless her math skills had completely abandoned her, the heiress would have to take his word about that sound time. "Three for four."

Was she doubting his word? Fair enough, given who he was and what he did. "Pretty sure you enjoyed our nooner." Absolutely preening with pride, the convict was confident in that fact.

"I'm actually giving you the benefit of the doubt on that count." Innocent until proven guilty, right? "I'm referring our-" Daniella caught herself, half stumbling over her own words and half because his ministrations had gotten more vigorous, "-my first time."

Genuinely unsure what she was talking about, Sam made up for it by foxtrotting trough fuzzy fields of soft magenta and bubblegum. Nail tapping a steady pattern into the outermost walls of her womanhood, as the flood came he worked his way deeper, targeting the deepest reaches of her core. Stopping just shy of sending shock waves through her system, enough was enough; he wanted to make a point. "What are you talking about, Dells? You came."

For just a small moment, her mind shifted back to Elena and the advice she had given. ' _Sam... he's not always easy, but he's one of the good ones'_. He really was. "Only before I got you out of your jeans."

This was certainly news to him. "I thought..."

Blushing so hard that her cheeks stood out in the electric glow from the TV, the girl shook her platinum locks. "Nope." Little too hard on the 'p', but for good reason. "But I was kinda hoping that we could always try again." And again, and again, and again. As many times as it took to get her fill of him. _You know, I might just have an issue_...

Did he know that she was fostering this crime of lust? Young libido, a virgin's curiosity to try it all, a family history of insatiable appetite? Left unstated, it was an untapped recipe for disaster. And she prayed to whatever god or spirit or dead ancestor that was listening that Sam fed the beast. _Fuck, he was just so_...

"I'll bet you were." Definition of sexy, daddy or whatever the current hot porn meme was today, he snorted. So sure of himself. Cocky prick.

 _Good_.

Unamused by his assurance on the outside, the cranky monster within pouted. "Dick."

"Oh," laugh all at her expense, the man found a pace that kept her breathless and him in charge, "don't you worry about that baby girl. That's coming."

Moan escaping her lips in a watery burble, Dells was starting to really feel it in her core, that shameless profanity eking around every syllable to dance across her tongue. In truth, the way her body was reacting to his touch, it was hard to take her seriously through the guttural purr, "At least something will be."

Pausing just to make her suffer, Sam fixed her with a stern look. "Baby girl, I will spank you."

Tempting as that sounded, she wasn't sure she could take that on top of how great he felt fingering her the way he was. To be crass about it, she wasn't sure her pussy had ever felt better, and she'd masturbated more than enough times to know. _Although, there was one time that had been particularly memorable_... "Maybe next time."

And people called him cocky. "Next time? What makes you so sure there'll be one?"

Shutting him up and refusing to answer in one go, she deflected the question by pulling him in for another kiss. That lingering taste of nicotine was undeniably gross, yet at the same time it was something she could get used to, if it meant that she got more moments like this. He could say the same about her, only change out the smoking for drinking and every pitfall that came with it.

Kissing her back in earnest, Sam crept deeper into her core, hitting the dripping deep until his knuckles could taste the edge of her clitoris. Rendering the young woman positively speechless when the pace ramped up, he smirked, "Really, I'm flattered that you can't keep your hands off me."

If Daniella had been blushing before, it was nothing on how beet-red her face had just gone. Tapping into that primal urge was one thing, but an actual compliment? Eww.

Chuckle vibrating from his lips to hers, Sam had devious plans for this one. "Just so you know, this is what real teasing looks like." Bending her leg up and over his shoulder, he pushed harder and faster than before, grinning as she thrilled. Dells sounded good writhing in the sheets, but she would sound even better cumming.

Trail of spit breaking between them as he backed up enough to get a grander sense of the full picture, he couldn't quite shake the revelation that she hadn't enjoyed herself as much as he had. For the sake of his own ego, he wanted to change that. Hovering over her body just long enough to catch her stealing what she hoped to be a covert glance, the adventurer roamed south. Humming an old tune from when he had been a teen himself, as he pecked at her lower lips, Sam was visited by the semi-tangible ghost of a memory.

Daniella had been so tight that first time - and the second, and probably would remain that way for a long time to come - so he had had a notion. It was simple really, thinking that any extra lubrication would be a good thing. And being dehydrated, cranky, and generally hungover, a hot shower might warm up any aches that might be plaguing her mortal form. "Wanna take this to the bathroom?"

Catching his drift after a long moment, the heiress really didn't care one way or another. Everything was great where it was, her body in as comfortable position as it was like to get on the bed, and as an added bonus, there was a slim chance that she might even get to take a little nap after without looking like too much of a monster. _Hopefully without another nightmare_. Although if he was willing to do all the work of transporting her weary body, fine.

"On one condition." Those could have been the family words, once.

Mind wired into that dirty place, he was intrigued, "Oh? Do tell what Sleeping Beauty wants."

Initially she was just going to stipulate that he carry her to and fro, however it dawned on her that this was a real opportunity. "Ok, maybe more than just the one." Pulling up on an elbow, she ran her fingers through the oily tangle of pale gold sprouting from her head. "We seriously have to wash my hair. It smells like puke and that's not helping my stomach."

Funny, he agreed a little too quickly, "I was trying not to say anything about that."

She would have called him an ass for that, but he would probably take that as an invitation. "And you have to carry me."

Didn't he always? Serious enough, Sam deadpanned, airing one of his few grievances, "You're gonna be the death of my poor back."

That, or she was going to give him a heart attack in the funnest possible way. "We'll see about that."

His turn to pout, the man frowned at his cruel lover, "You're so mean to me." Sighing as if accepting that it was just a family trait, Sam traced the side of her face before climbing off of the bed, off of her, "You know, if you seriously think there's gonna be more of this in the future, you're gonna have to start to think of better demands, princess."

"I said there was more to come." Grumbling under her breath, she had to question if he even heard her.

Oh, he heard her alright - it was just fun to twist her knickers all up in a bunch. Groaning at her weight to illicit guilt from the perpetually guilty, Sam scooped her up into his arms and carried her back to the bathroom. Setting her royal highness on the counter once more, while he made himself useful flipping the lights on, shutting the door to keep the steam in, and starting the water, she made herself more comfortable.

"One scalding hot shower, coming right up." Even before things had escalated to this place, Sam had learned that the heiress was all about showers that could boil your skin off within mere moments.

Dropping her button-up to the cool tile like they did in the movies, she looked at him with unbridled mischief in her bright eyes. "Come here."

Everything else on the back burner, Daniella started with the drawstring of his sweatpants, eyeing the morsel before her with unquenchable hunger. Biting her lower lip, it was half to fight the wave of nausea and half in appreciation of what she found. This was hardly the only time in her life she'd gotten horny during a hangover, but it was the first time she'd had a living, breathing partner to do anything with.

"Allow me." No longer burdened by restrictions such as clothes, Sleeping Beauty wanted to return the favor and make her brave hero feel even half so good as he did for her.

Gingerly grasping the one mast she wouldn't terribly mind being tied to, the pseudo-blonde slid her five prehensile limbs across his length, using the pre-cum coating the tip as lubricant. Thumb dragging along just over the top of the prominent vein, her nails smoothed the shaft with a soft scrapping-tickle that wasn't entirely awful. Friction more than making up for the brunt of the downside, hand jobs weren't the heiress's strongest suit, but he would be amenable to teaching her a thing or two.

Virtually absent-minded with her attention elsewhere, the heiress's other hand was doodling faint designs along his cut abdomen, getting caught for a moment in his happy trail. Serpentine, her fingers eventually broke free, exploring the jut of his hipbone and every other inch of available space, all the way down to the very bottom. Twitching ever so slightly when she stopped focusing exclusively on the shaft and migrated to the bulbous tip, Sam let out a low moan when the massage made the journey from head to sack. _Baby girl was definitely eager to please_.

Head back to the ceiling to enjoy the smooth-ish, polishing rhythm of her arm, the only time he moved was to stop her when he joined her at the edge. "Wait." Hand snapping to her wrist once more, he caught the woman mid-stroke.

Wide and curious, she stared at him, not quite at eye level from her perch on the counter top. Did he somehow think it was a good idea to shower with a shirt on? Anyways, why stop her now? Steam drifting up around them in the cramped space, if they stayed like this much longer, everything was going to get horribly waterlogged. And after what she imagined could have transpired with her mother, she might not be good for covering the damages.

"This ain't the only damage." Accent grim and therefore sending a different kind of shiver down her spine, he pointed to his face, the mark faded but still clinging to the surface. A reminder that it was never safe to get involved with an Adler.

Mauve, puce, and bringing a fresh wave of remorse over her unfortunate blackout, she tried to apologize, "Sam, I'm-"

"Save it." Waving the girl off almost preemptively, the man let her know that he wasn't blaming her for this, merely warning her of what she might see. "You didn't know what you were doing."

The same could be said of this entire experience. Frowning deep as she struggled to find something to say, he gently brought his hand to the side of her head, petting the yellowed mess almost fondly. Smirking as if he'd just thought of some inside joke, he lightly shook his own head. "You know, I don't know if you earned it yet."

Lost, she gazed at the compass.

Once more he laughed openly at her expense, getting under those frazzled nerves of hers. "My tattoos. Gonna be hard to hide them from you now."

Duh. Chuckling a little in spite of her condition, the young thing watched in revered awe as he did the honors and peeled off his shirt. Far worse than what was on his cheek, her mirth quickly dried to ashes in her mouth when she honed in on the large, discolored splotch on his torso.

Almost a natural born nurse, she ghosted her hand along the traces of abuse, "Does it hurt?"

"Nah." Daniella couldn't tell if he was being brave or being honest, so to test that theory she pulled him close and kissed the bruise. Tender, chaste almost, as if he were the fragile one made of glass. Gaze lost on every other part of the patient, if he winced, she missed it.

"How 'bout you, baby girl?" Shaking the spotlight like a champion, the ex-con pulled the heiress on stage to take his place in the limelight. Although that wasn't to say that he'd been completely malicious about it; for better or for worse, it couldn't be denied that he he did actually care about the girl. "How you holdin' up?"

Cranking the rock-solid yank once more with little enough investment this time, the part of her that wasn't raring to go looked at the man in a separate window of honesty. The obvious answer was 'fine', but how could anybody living through a hangover even begin to think that word?

Taking away everything that she had gone through before today, every last inch ached, throbbed, felt stiff or just out of place. The nightmare was still lingering in some nearby crevice in her mind, as was the fear. The fear of losing Sam, the fear of being alone, of being prey to Angel and Ashley once more. This... this didn't feel wrong, but she knew deep down that it was only a distraction. A way to forget the pain, displace the bad thoughts, quiet that surge that always seemed to bring her back to her glorified body guard. And above all it was a means to distance herself from the delusion that the impossible might happen. This was just a job, and at best all Sam would ever be was a cross between a surrogate father and a friend with benefits...

"As well as can be expected." Searching for any sort of easy out, Daniella hastily scanned the room, coming back to her own sorry state. "And a little overdressed for the occasion."

Honoring her cue, Sam laughed, "Indeed you are. Let's see if we can do something about that, my dear."

 _My dear_. Her stomach flopped off the diving board just then, and the heiress was pretty damn sure that the timing wasn't fully coincidental. _Must you make it so hard_? Grinning and bearing the secrets in her heart just as she'd been taught, Dells forced a smile that she didn't really feel.

While that routine was hardly anything new, faking it wasn't enough. There was more buried beneath the rippling surface, however she wasn't entirely sure how to express the remainder, so there was only one thing to say, "Thanks." Despite following a white lie, there was more packed into that one single word than in the sum of the rest.

Bandages still tied tight to keep Sally's parts in place, he pulled at the thread that unraveled them. In as sensual a way as could be managed, there was something in the way that Sam pulled, yanked, and let the rolls slip down. Lips grazing the exposed skin below, he gradually found his way back north, traveling to a pink cave yearning to be explored. A natural born explorer by both blood and profession, he was practically obligated to follow the imaginary noise of running water. Lapping up the light leak that had sprung at the entrance, he plunged his tongue in with bold daring.

"Oh, God!" Not yet at the ultimate edge, his renewed exploration was definitely benefited from their new position. Wrapping one leg around his head, her fingers threaded into his hair, nails digging into his scalp the further in he went.

Backing up slowly, he removed his lips from her ocarina, giving her inner thigh a smart tap, "No, I'm Sam. But if you wanna give me that kind of credit, I guess I could accept the title with a small g. Kinda like this one here." As if he'd known where it had been the entire time, his fingers suddenly thrust back inside of her and found the exact mark, his mouth humming over every nerve in her body.

"Now! Fuck me." Words jumbled on her tongue as she struggled to keep everything together, Dells was certain of only one thing.

Following his dick to greener stars, he inhaled the scent of adventure, delving into what was waiting to be his. Running his hands along her slit once more to make sure she was ready for what was to come, Sam picked the off-white lady up and carried her into the shower. Legs folded tight around his waist and aroused organ pressing against his full erection, there was just barely room to close the shower door.

Pinned between Sam and the wall, they couldn't keep their mouths off another as the scalding water poured overhead. Wheezing as a dry heave filled the contents of her lungs, by the time the hacking spell was over, he had her spun around so that if she did vomit, it would be less likely to get on him. Rubbing his cock behind her just on the outside of her delectable folds, Sam slowly eased himself into the heiress once the water had done its job to moisten the area.

 _So tight_ , he could only think of one thing as all the pressure came crashing down at once, her muscles squeezing him with sweet, sweet, eagerness. Manhood more than ready to pierce into her core with a savage fury, he held himself motionless as his partner adjusted. Spread so wide, even with the water running down her back and legs from slumped shoulders, it was hardly enough to acclimate. The position helped a bit too, however not nearly enough for either of their liking. They both wanted it so badly, so intensely, it felt like their entire bodies had began to tremble in anticipation.

Once given the green light, Sam kept his movement slow and steady for her sake, even though it was a Herculean task to keep himself from tearing into her like he so desperately wanted to. "Dells..." Name a strangled grunt, he couldn't speak if he wanted to keep a semblance of control over the rocking of his hips. But that was fine. This time.

Hand so tight around his that her nails were digging into his flesh, she was grateful for the stillness as her body accepted him, the girth just a little too much. _Was this what it felt like to cross the gates of heaven_? The pain of shedding the mortal coil, followed by that buzz that was second to none?

"Oh, fuck..." Feeling it inside, far into a depth that couldn't be reached by the usual means, the heiress arched her back into the thief. Everything was sore in some way or other, but damn if this wasn't the good kind. Hips falling into a rhythm as they moved in sync with one another, a part of her lamented that she wasn't up to grinding him into submission. "Sam... Mmm, Sam..."

Back and forth they went, her saying his name like that an aphrodisiac on the top of the strawberry cake. Nibbling her unpierced earlobe, his hands roamed all across her waist until they found something better on her chest. Pawing the perk little peaks to the point that she was practically screaming his name, one of his hands had grown restless and traveled down south. Adamant that she end the night on a high and start the new day satisfied, he kept going, even after her cries had started to border on the obnoxious (for the neighbors).

Whimpering at max volume around the two fingers he had hooked into her mouth, he could tell that he was getting her close to her tipping point.

"Oh, Sam..." At this point in time, even standing up was a major chore, but she could she say that she was even on her feet when her legs felt like they had given out?

Slippery when wet more than apt, the heiress reached back, craning her neck to kiss him where ever she could reach. Plush, what started as feathers and butterflies soon became more erratic, her lips tracing the stubble of his jawline and smothering one of the four birds. Everything felt so right, so good, that just for a moment even the throbbing in her head and bones had lessened.

Liquid fire burning brighter than the melting heat radiating below, the nearer the couple edged to the verge of complete oblivion, the harder it was to remain in control. For Daniella, that meant succumbing to the foul roiling in her intestines; Sam's struggle was more metaphysical in nature, coming at the expense of his young partner. The more she thrummed in time to the beat, the more he had felt the need to follow, bucking wildly to overcompensate for the age gap, to remind Adler who it was that was really in charge, to claim what wanted to be owned.

 _Too much, it was all getting to be too much_.

Hating every second of what her stomach was doing to her, the rich man's daughter found herself with her head between her knees. As one of the remedies she heard most often, it only made sense to give the motion a try. Frankly, it didn't feel like it changed much, and things were moving so quickly behind her that it hurt her eyes to try and keep up. Pleasantly warm, the hand on her back was actually rather comforting, a balm to an otherwise shitty day.

Falling away from him, the suave adventurer clung on to her arm, fingers like vices that were probably going to leave even more marks on the morrow. _What was another bruise when she had already been doomed to an immediate future of nothing but sweaters_? Every breathy moan only served to spur him on, his hand once more making tracks from her bouncing breasts to her side, slipping further. Catching a hold of her shoulder, somehow or other he had made it to the middle of her back, pressing her forward.

"You like this, baby girl?" Going just a little harder where he got the best reaction, he could feel that his own limit was near its zenith. Only a tiny bit more, one more contraction of her core or the smallest taste of that highest peak, and he would pull out and finish her off. _Just a little more_...

Pleasure overriding sense, it was difficult to say what happened first: the spewing of pea soup that sent Dells to her knees in the small space, or the pulsating wash of pure white that briefly exposed the blissful gates of nirvana. Cumming as she vomited the contents of her stomach, Daniella half threw herself to the floor and half fell of his dick as her legs actually did fail. Going down with an audible, suctioning plop, everything happened so quick that she didn't immediately realize that her partner had also found relief. Sticky, white relief, gushing out in a thick rope across her back and into her hair.

Semen collecting in the dip of her back and slowly dribbling down the curve of her ass, there was a winding path between Daniella's shoulder blades and congealing between the heart-shaped crack. Coating the young woman as if she'd begged for it, his first reaction was not to tend to the convulsing mess at his feet but to see to his own needs, milking out everything he had. Which, after being so well cared for these last seventy-two hours, was not a whole lot. But it was still enough.

Afterglow too bright to really bitch about anything (just yet), she shuddered on the floor, trying not to imagine what her back looked like. _Possibly one of the original Jackson Pollock pieces in the gallery, or worse_. Lucky for all parties that she was already in the shower and had intended to get cleaned up anyways.

Running a hand along her sex while she was still on her knees - yakking up what had been saltines - the heiress found that he had started a hair sooner than previously believed.

Good on his word, Sam stayed to help her get cleaned up, scrubbing her back until it was red and washing her hair until it smelled like nothing but hotel soap. She wasn't so selfish as to not return the favor, cleaning as many places as she could in a secret scavenger hunt for his tattoos. Looking at every one of them in turn, she inquired about their stories. Because most ink had a purpose.

"This one?"

The answer she'd gotten was usually prison, however the one she'd indicated had been due to a lost bet, a very specific thing on a random spot on his leg. Lingering on the murder of birds she so favored, Dells showed him something that he hadn't noticed before in the poor lighting. Pitch black it was small enough line of script, a humble tribute to her father; under the breast and curved around the back along the top of a rib, it had been intentionally placed somewhere her mother would be unlikely to ever see.

 _Of course it came back around to Rafe_.

Once the pair were squeaky clean and their bodies had been laid bare before the other, it really was time to put his baby girl to bed. Cuddling close for one reason or another, by the time the fluffy towels came out and everything had been dried off, her eyes were already closed.

Unsurprisingly, the last sensible thing he caught coming out of her mouth was, "Tell me. Tell me about... my..." Yawning too big for her jaw, Daniella was out like a light.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

The term "following his dick to greener stars" came to me the other day (on the second anniversary to be exact) when I was marathoning the Lion King trilogy. More specifically, during the second (AND BEST), when Kovu was falling for Kiara. It's a kind of mistake/play on the phrase "greener pastures".

Also, I'm so mature, taking the high road. Not.


	70. The More You Know x 2

**\- Chapter Sixty- Four -**

 **The More You Know x 2**

Reset button pressed for the fifth time in what felt like two years, the duo were still holed up in some room out of the way, as far from the action as one could get. Drama and secrets were the key in the door, liquor the fuel on the fire that kept them warm. Something like sexual tension would occasionally peer out from the closet, and any number of familiar faces were on speed dial, ready to be pulled in at the drop of a hat. The hired hand had something buzzing around in his bonnet that he wasn't quite ready to air, and the heiress he had been hired to protect was just waking up.

It was the status quo. Maybe it was all just chance that their circumstances seemed so limited in their scope and imagination, or perhaps it was the safe option. The pair were comfortable in a way, even if they only seemed able to express a handful of sides of themselves. The protective and the protector, the damaged and the fucked. Yeah, maybe it was like they were trapped in a certain kind of space, but they were learning a fair bit about one another along the way; quite possibly even a little about themselves as well.

"Why don't we go for a walk?" Bored enough to count every visible right-angle in the room, after spending the last two thousand years doing stretches light enough for her shoulder and knees, the heiress hugged her legs to her chest. It was a reasonable enough proposal, she thought. Besides, how was he not restless?

Finished with this eighth set by then (although to be fair, she had stopped counting), Sam evened out his reps by doing two last crunches before sitting up. Sharing the floor to burn off the pent-up energy and make up for not being able to hit up the gym with his little brother as planned, for the most part there hadn't been much conversation. Frankly he was used to focusing on what he was doing, not the people he was doing it with. From what the older gent caught, the girl had kept herself busy enough, rattling off under her breath.

Despite it not really being necessary, he glanced towards the window to confirm that it was indeed still nighttime. "It's still dark out." Sam didn't particularly mind being out in the wilderness at this time if there was something on the line, although he was given pause by the thought of having to escort someone with such shoddy footing.

"So?" It was the quintessential answer, because there was never going to be a better way to say that you didn't give a single fuck.

Again, the professional swindler wasn't against the idea being floated, it was just that it seemed to fall on his shoulders to have to be the one to think things through. Either of them catching cold was the very last thing they needed; she might not have had any memory of the fact, but someone there had just fought to prevent that very thing. "It might still be raining."

 _Zero. Fucks_. Daniella needed to get outside, to do something - literally anything - that wasn't drinking, eating, or sleeping. There was nothing there to read, meditation and yoga weren't cutting the mustard, and there was no escaping her living shadow.

Dells wasn't really angry with Sam at the moment, it just felt like he was there every time she turned around. Awaking from her nap in just a towel, he had been watching her from the corner of his eye. Going to the bathroom to get dressed, she could have sworn that she heard him breathing on the other side of the door. Even while they were doing their own things to wait for the sun to come up, it seemed to her that he was always there, lingering just a little too close.

Fair enough, she probably would have had a panic attack if he hadn't been there. During the course of all this mess, the young woman had come to rely on the man just a bit too much, it was clear. Sam... He'd given her something that she never really had before, and so it was hard to be without him - but where the hell was the fine print that said she couldn't have a breather?! The walls were closing in, and she could have sworn that there were shapes crawling in the dark.

Granted, that last part wasn't his fault. Not entirely. But the unspoken thing hanging over their heads, leeching off the bond between them, that was getting to be too much. Obviously they needed to talk about something big, and it was hard for him to find the right way to start that conversation.

If Sam of all people couldn't just say it, whatever it was, that meant that it was a huge deal... Huge enough that a part of her was scared to hear whatever it might have been. Thankfully the resemblance Daniella shared with her father was too great for anyone to second-guess, but all things considered she couldn't help but be nervous that the possibility was there...

After all, didn't they say that one tended to develop similar features to somebody else if they spent enough time together? Or was that a fallacy, another urban legend that had spread? Considering that she had spent the greater part of her life without her father, that certainly seemed like hogwash. Unless... Mama had projected so much that Daniella's own body had acted in a survival role, disguising herself as that man in all the portraits... Was that a possibility, or just the overactive imagination of someone that had dabbled in a little too much science fiction?

Brain suffering a soft fry-out, the heiress blinked away the various conspiracy theories and returned to the matter at hand. When all of that came out, fine, but she wasn't in the mood to push the issue needlessly. "What are you, a witch?"

Ever a cycle of turns between the pair, Sam could have popped the little squirt. Although maybe he should have given her some credit for knowing that reference in an age were just about everything was soulless remakes and smart phones. Nah, definitely the first one. "Very nice."

Used to this face of the man now, Dells crawled across the floor on brutalized knees and loosely embraced Sam. "Come on, don't be like that." Playing it up, she nuzzled into his back, "I can't help it. I feel like I'm going to go crazy if I stay cooped up in here! I need to get out of here for a bit, feel the wind, something! Don't you?"

Boy, she was preaching to the choir and didn't even realize the half of it. Rotating his head back so that he was able to see the royal pain in his ass, the ex-con reached up to pat her arm.

Fearful that it was going to be a 'no' out of his mouth, the young woman hastily tacked on a quick, "I promise I'll bring a jacket. Please Daddy?"

Yeah, no. Nope. No. Yuck. No. Nope. Not even a little.

Not entirely sure what had possessed her to try that one, in the awkward stretch following that ill-conceived attempt to be adorable, it almost made sense to hear in that she was doing that whole baby-talk shtick. On paper. Hanging in the air with everything else, that was just a little too much. Right?

Right. Dells had too high an opinion of her father, although if it bordered on the sexual was not an avenue either cared to explore. And Sam had known Rafe, maybe a little too well. It was a line that was uncomfortable to broach, for a number of legitimate reasons that didn't need explanation. _Although_... It would pair well with him always calling her baby girl, and it wasn't anything he had ever kicked anyone out of bed over before... No. No. _Maybe_.

Saving the moment after almost ruining it completely, the heiress amended as if she hadn't just tip-toed a line, "We don't have to go far. And if it's really bad we can just come back, deal?"

Just so long as they didn't have to address that little slip of the tongue. Sighing in the wake of the puppy dog eyes routine - a routine, that for the record had been perfected by a certain man of adventure - Sam relented. Realizing in the back of his head that she hadn't really recoiled at the unmentionable mistake, the thief released his hold and nodded toward the dresser. "Alright, go fetch the coats." She won that round.

 **[Every New Beginning Comes From Some Other Beginning's End]**

Damp definitely the word de jour, everything was either soaked a rich cobalt or dripping with lapis lazuli. Asphalt a glittering sable river, the pavement was brushed with an earthy undercoat; the buildings themselves waterlogged monuments of blue steel and murky ebony, there was the occasional distant glow of hazy starlight in the windows. On the bright side, the worst of the rain had passed, however, the wind was just as restless as they were.

Clear enough to not even have to dream of using a telescope, the sky was alive, hosting a party throughout the cosmos that was beginning to wind down. Sapphire ink painted the horizon, brilliant hues of indigo and crushed blueberry smearing the crystalline topcoat. Refusing to go home, the final stars of the night burned in the arms of their lovers as the last song played.

 _You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here_.

Because it was so late and everything was closed, there really wasn't much of a destination in mind, and that was alright. Due to the severe storm washing away anything that hadn't been bolted down, everything was too wet to sit on, and so they had been robbed of any notion to loiter. Joke was on them anyways, as it felt good to just be outside, walking through the empty streets.

 _I know who I want to take me home_.

Not overwhelmingly chilly with their jackets done all the way up, so long as they stayed close to one another it really wasn't so bad. The breeze would ruffle their hair a little, but there was no one else around to have to impress.

 _I know who I want to take me home_.

Just each other. Try as one might, by this point in their relationship it really couldn't get much more worse than half-drowned corpse and... Come to think of it, the heiress really hadn't had the opportunity to see Sam at his worst yet. Sure, there had been that time he'd stayed up almost the entire time she recovered from nearly having her brains bashed in by a bottle, but who could remember the details when your head was wrapped tighter than a mummy's ass? While she wasn't actively hoping to see anything befall her local hero, it really gave things a one-sided appearance. He knew that she would stand with him no matter what, right?

 _I know who I want to take me home_.

 **[Bio-Shook]**

Following their feet like a wounded solider on the invisible path home, the duo wound up in a sparse area dotted with a handful of swampy shamrock sentinels. Open enough to see the ultramarine sky uninterrupted, all it took to reach this little nook was to traverse a dirt road and crawl through a bent barbwire fence. It was probably someone's home, once, but the sorry state of the fence didn't exactly scream that there was anyone that would find them. Surprisingly alright with potentially trespassing, the young woman had been the one to pull them over to the border.

"You know who lives here?" Asking the one person there that had been on the island long enough to have at least a vague sense of a map, the heiress shrugged when he didn't answer. Running her hand along the top wire, she glanced over her shoulder at Sam, "I have a good feeling about this place."

Girl was trouble. Who knew?

Hand tugging at various different places to test where the barrier was weakest, Dells followed the barbed metal a short ways before looking back at her companion. Mischief alight in her eyes, the girl beckoned her partner in crime over. Nearest street light a good ten yards ahead, he was honestly shocked that she had found the fence without first barreling into it.

Ready to show the kid how it was really done, Sam raised one foot to the lowest level to see if it could support his weight. So long as he was quick about it, it should be fine. Showing off just a little, he vaulted over to the opposite side of the not-so-great divide. Standing up straight, the man held out his hand to assist the lady.

Hesitant all of a sudden, in truth her search had yielded not just a weak point but also a hole that was just begging to be penetrated. She could take his hand, letting him feel better about the kind of girl he thought she was, or, she could show him that she wasn't entirely useless. He obviously knew what she had endured these past couple of weeks, so she didn't really need to prove anything to him. But what if she wanted to prove something to herself?

"Thank you kindly." Holding up the topmost wrung so that it didn't catch in her hair, the junior vandal ignored the offer.

Mildly impressed, he held his hands up in concession. "Alright, good on you kid."

Further inside this mythical grove, the duo came to settle underneath the picotee blue canopy. Neither were really tired from their trek yet, even though they'd come a relatively far distance from the hotel; in truth they had only paused to hydrate. Carrying two bottles each, the rookie knew a little would go a long way, but the veteran adventurer was aware of just how vital fresh water could be. And that was without waking up with a hangover.

Whistle maintained for another day, Sam felt that old itch calling him. Glancing over at the captivated young woman, from the smitten expression on her face he figured that there was enough time for a quick smoke break. Or maybe even a long one - he wouldn't say no either way.

Taken instantly by the serene natural beauty as she gazed at the stars, Dells watched the periwinkle twinkling in the heavens. Forgetting that the grass was probably as wet as a jade sea, she sat down to get a better look at the Egyptian blue canvas. Losing track a little too quickly, somehow that small moment quickly became a prolonged activity as her eyes sought out familiar constellations. Before she realized it, the heiress was sprawled out on a dewy sage liter.

Known only to her, as he lit up Sam wondered if she could recite all the names, or if her sapphire lenses were merely drawing pictures where so many had before.

"Where are ya?" Recognizing the glassy-eyed dreamer envisioning a world that they had never seen before, the world-traveled historian took a squat beside a kindred spirit. He sincerely doubted that the heiress had even heard him, yet if she were even half as at peace as she looked, he supposed he could find a way to forgive her.

Mind shifting to her father when Daniella realized the potential in this place to be the perfect camping spot, she let out a low hum. "Hm, I wonder. You know, he promised to take me camping. One of the very last promises Daddy made me was that he would take me out for a whole week," Dells trailed off then, saddened by the memory of a door that would never open again, "once he was done with his business."

Careful to take an extra long drag, the thief measured his words, and it showed, "Is that right? You uh, ever been camping?"

"A few times. My step-father used to take me, and once with my middle school class." Bringing a large grin to her cheeks, that field trip had been really fun actually, and one of the few times that biases had waned just enough to connect. And to think, she had almost opted out at the last minute. "Zachariah Scott had stolen into the girls' tent, not realizing I was there." _Or maybe he had, in hindsight_.

Sam could remember a similar time in his own life, breaking into the girls' rooms during various retreats at the orphanage. The first couple of times it had been on dares, until finally it had become his pleasure to lead the others in the most noble of arts. "Zachariah Scott, huh? Tell me more."

"Zach was the class bad boy. All the girls would talk about was how cute and dangerous he was-" Caught in the kind of nostalgia that wasn't really all that far removed yet felt as if it had been at least a lifetime, the heiress clarified the reason why he was such a bad ass, "He unapologetically ate meat and rode his bike to school every day, without wearing a dorky helmet. He was really cute in his torn-up skinny jeans, surrounded by all these dark, brooding secrets... You know the type." _You probably invented the type_.

Not all that threatened by a guy she probably hadn't seen in at least four years (even if the description went on a little long there), Sam egged it on, "Trying to make me jealous, baby girl?"

Honestly, it hadn't really occurred to her that Sam would spare a second thought about an old classmate of hers. Although, with this particular one, maybe he should. _If he really cares about me at all_ , her inner Negative Nancy chimed almost gleefully in the background. "Would it matter? What happened is ancient history."

Did she forget what it was that he did for a living? One of the many things he did for a living? "Sounds like you want me to be."

Blinking with lamb-like innocence, she raised her head off the ground just enough to meet the man's eye, "Well if for some reason you were, you don't need to worry. I haven't spoken to Zach since freshman year. We've e-mailed each other all of three times since he left town, and he's just... different now." Bad different. Invasion of the Body Snatchers different.

Technically speaking, the last time that she had even seen Zachariah Scott face-to-face, they had severely overestimated their limits and had gotten completely wasted. Underestimated? Whichever, the point was that she had woken up in his parents' closet in only her underwear and the tie he'd worn for orientation. A number of shoes had been ruined, the second car was totaled in the front yard, a small fire had started in the pool house, and Zach had fallen asleep trying to clean himself off in the dishwasher.

Hardly around in the first place, his father had recently bailed town in wake of an abundance of overdue gambling debts, and his mother had never much cared for Daniella in the first place (rather, she had a blatant and intense dislike for the girl's parents). It was just the excuse Mrs. Scott needed to make a clean start someplace far away.

Legal action had been threatened by the adults on both sides, but ultimately her mother had paid for the incident to just disappear. What Dells hadn't expected was her friend to go too. For what it had been worth, her mother had at least tolerated Zachariah, until he had informed the heiress that he would be moving away in a text, ending their years-long friendship by saying that it would be better if they just kept things digital for a while.

"It's just weird with him now, like he became somebody else. I guess that's just high school, but never in a million years would I have guessed that things would end up like they did..." Only an oracle could have, however the teen had a hard time coming to grips with fact, now that she was thinking of him again. "I used to dream that in a perfect world, Zachariah would have been the one to-"

"Dells, I really don't need this much honesty. Really." Seriously, if the cards had been flipped, would the young woman appreciate hearing an in-depth rundown of all the people he wanted to bang? Or actually had? Probably not, unless something really snapped and it was to fashion a hit-list.

Like her mother _. Yikes._

"-Take me to prom." Finishing her sentence as if there had been no interruption, she shot Sam a scathing look, "Seriously, not everything has to be sexual, you know?"

His returning look was no less dirty. _It takes two, baby girl_.

"Yeah, because nothing untoward ever happened at a high school prom. Just ask Carrie, Kim, Donna, or Jennifer." What pg-13 movie does she live in? For Christ's sake. "The only reason people even go to prom is to get laid." That or get drunk, but the young woman had that one more than covered. "Guy, girl, don't matter. Everyone just wants to get it in."

Possessed by big dreams of getting to try on a plethora of pretty dresses in every cut and color and material imaginable, a certain starry-eyed seventh grader had no way of knowing better. Craving the affection of a mother that had only taken so much personal time to spend with her daughter, Daniella had envisioned going to the salon with her mother for a whole day. Getting all dolled up for the dance and then going to find that perfect pair of new shoes to go with her dress. What could have been better?

In that same perfect world where Zachariah had taken her to her prom (because at the time, she hadn't known that there was a thing as both senior and junior prom), the only thing better would have been her father's involvement. She could picture it so clearly, her Daddy telling her how beautiful she was, swinging her around before letting her go with with a date that he had scarred for life.

"Forgive me if twelve-year old me was a tad naive." Short not at Sam but at the reality of her own junior prom, she settled back into her earthen bed and let her eyes roam across the years, "I finally figured out that dancing all night - just dancing - is only something that happens in the movies."

"Pretty much, yeah." Not sorry at all that neither he nor his little brother had to miss out on the grand tradition that was prom when they had gotten to experience so many better things in their lives, Sam couldn't really feel all that sympathetic to Daniella either. Sure, she was probably the girl that that kind of thing really mattered to, but what had been lost, really?

Thanking her old buddy Zach for ruining things a second time around, Dells cursed the boy in the back of her mind. She had learned her lesson, she didn't need Sam to rub it in. "Thank you for that. I never would have understood that it was stupid of me to get caught up in the fantasy on my own."

Chill dropping the temperature by a handful of degrees, the man held his cigarette between his teeth to rub his hands together for additional warmth. "What? Just trying to help you keep your expectations realistic, princess."

 _Princess_? _Wow_. Hair prickling at the nape of her neck, the air just got that much colder. Dells understood that as the daughter of old money, there was a certain set of expectations about her, however she thought that Sam was above judging her for the number of zeroes in her family bank account. "Well fuck me for daring to dream what it might have been like."

While the easy joke was that he'd fuck her for less, somehow that felt inappropriate. "Might have been like? You mean you don't know? Shit, and here I thought that you were prom queen." Sam possibly might have voted for her, if that was something he did.

Daniella snorted at the mental picture of herself winning the crown. While she might have taken some joy in the looks on everyone's faces, getting the sash and crown was something that had never once interested her in the slightest. "Pretty sure you have to be asked to the dance to get voted prom queen. I'm not really the most popular girl at my school. Even if I was, you couldn't pay me to accept that 'honor'." The heiress thought so little of being crowned high school royalty that she even did the air quotes.

That was... It kinda made actual sense, looking at the young woman he had gotten to know, but counter wise to that, it made zero sense that she wasn't popular. Didn't the Adler name automatically buy that sort of thing? Or was the school she went to so elitist that they snubbed a frigging dynasty? Rafe hadn't exactly been in the business of making friends, but Jesus, had he really burned so many bridges?

Leaving that delightful conversation to hang there, the pair lapsed into silence for a bit. Huffy, slightly tense with a vaguely hostile undertone, but not entirely uncomfortable. Weighty and real, it was familiar to the pair; more so in relation what they had shared with others, but not wholly unknown between them. And maybe it didn't mean anything at all, but nether Sam nor Daniella wanted to kill the other and bury the body where no one would find it. They were alright, existing in this place together.

Finishing his smoke, the historian joined his young ward on the squelchy ground, laying down so that they could take a break gazing at the dimming window to the countless constellations above to look at one another. Bodies lined north to south, east to west, their parallel persons surely must have wanted to, because both had caught the other peeking over at least once. Somber, weightless and a speck that would be gone in an instant, as they contemplated what it was they were even doing, a giant cloud rolled across the sky.

 **[Fast-Forwarding the Cosmic Rewind]**

"What would you be doing right now if we weren't here?" A fitting variant of the usual ice-breaker, the heiress pulled at a stray tuft of golden-brown weeds sprouting near her head, ripping from just above the root. The question may have felt like it had sprung up out of nowhere, but that didn't make it any less valid.

He didn't even need to think about his answer. "Sleeping."

Of course he was going to a smart-ass about it - he wouldn't have been Sam otherwise. Playfully offended, she sprinkled the blades of sage and mint over the top of his head, getting minuscule clumps of dirt everywhere. "I'm being serious here, Sam."

Really, he was too. Previously digging a single 'x' in the dirt to mark this place, he smoothed his hand across his semi-hard work; scooping the soft mud into his fist, the historian returned the favor and crumbled the umber rain over her head. Wiping her hair and eyes, he snickered even as she spat out dirt. "That'll teach you to doubt me. To answer your question, I would be in bed, preparing to spend the rest of the weekend with my niece for her birthday. What about you? Tell me, what does the one and only Daniella Adler have on her itinerary?"

"Ehh..." What _would_ she be doing right about this time? Genuinely stumped by more than the irony of hours gained across time zones, it felt strange thinking to her ordinary life back in the real world. School, schedules, and no Sam (and all that being near him entailed). "Probably... studying for some big exam? Working on a paper for some class? Something to that effect."

Anticlimactic and as safe as it got, for as boring as her answer was it did make Sam realize something about the heiress. Something that would have made itself immediately noticeable from the start, were they not constantly hounded by mishap. "You take school seriously, don't you?"

"Why wouldn't I?" As her legal guardian so thoughtfully phrased it, Daniella was an Adler, and that entailed certain responsibilities; largely social in nature, there was the fate of an international juggernaut to consider. Although even if that hadn't been the case, the young woman just enjoyed reading. Especially if it involved history.

"That a trick question?" Stealing a glance at his little whiskey-toting bookworm, Sam could almost picture it perfectly: Dells buttoned proper in the traditional plaid uniform, hiding a brown paper bag between her chest and a stack of books. Invisible. "Let me guess, you're one of those that has every second of the next seventy years planned out, aren't you? That's why you're so sporty - to mix things up so you don't go crazy. Lemme rephrase, completely batshit."

"No," head shaking so furiously that the mushy mulch changed its shape, it was going to be hard to tell where the earth ended and her scalp began, "Christ no. That's been her goal ever since I can remember, but that's not me." Out beneath the open sky, Dells was no closer to figuring out what her vision for her future was. Frightening as it was to ditch the safety net, it was also an exhilarating rush. "Out here, I'm free to do whatever I want." She hadn't really meant to, but her eyes rolled over the lush sapphire expanse to rest on Sam.

 _Freedom_... Removed from those thirteen lost years as he was going to get, when he really stopped to think about it, the ex-con saw that she had been almost as trapped as he was. They were two completely incongruent things, being locked in an ivory tower with only a book for company and being confined to a Panamanian prison. However, while she had been allowed basic human privileges, he at least had been allowed his mind, and some small escapes that needn't be quite so hidden, necessarily. Sam had over a decade's worth of things to bemoan, but Dells had been stuck with Bai. Close as that tipped the scales, house arrest had nothing on hard jail time; having said that, there were elements there that could be related to, on either side.

Dial cranked up to an solid eight of eleven, he cocked his head and smirked impishly, "That right? Well besides drinking your liver dead and scrambling to stay alive, what is it you enjoy doing?"

Coquettish, the heiress raised her arm above her head to walk her fingers over the man's similarly outstretched arm, "Is this the part where I'm supposed to say you?"

"That would be nice." Matching tit-for-tat, the thief wrapped his own fingers around her forearm, as if he meant to pull her over to him at a moment's notice.

Power in her hand to play it any way she desired, the young woman slid her ring and middle fingers along the seam of his arm, nails toeing the line in the denim. "Whoever told you that I was nice must have lied."

"Bastards." Mirth making its way to the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, Sam lowered his hold down to her wrist. Wrestling only momentarily for dominance, the adventurer came out victorious, enveloping her entire hand in his own. "They must have sent me a defective product. You wouldn't happen to know who I have to call to demand my money back by chance, would ya?"

Lacing her fingers through his, there was a slight chance that she had let him win that round. "Now why should I tell you a thing like that? It's a cutthroat business, and you'll end up replacing me for a younger model sooner rather than later."

Younger than Dells? Keeping up well enough with a struggling gimp, it seemed highly improbable that he would find another woman like this one at any point in the future. Now if she had been concerned with getting swapped out for an older model with all the standard settings that were so familiar, that was a valid concern. "Only if you don't pull your weight and help out around the place. Against my better judgment, I suppose my wallet and I can be amenable to coming to some sort of... arrangement." That sounded just a hair dirtier than he had intended it to. "So long as we can keep finding uses for you."

Arching in the dark, it was tough to say if her brow had been moved more by his words or his actions. Guiding the way, Sam brought the deep magenta gashes to the corner of his mouth. Surprisingly holding out against this gesture, the heiress couldn't help but hear the teasing lilt in her own voice, "Such as?"

Figuring that if Daniella could survive jumping out of a two-story building into the unknown, she could handle the usual wear-and-tear of the field - if she wanted. Innocent as her notion of dancing off into the night, Sam envisioned that same lonely school girl rolling up her sleeves to swing from a grappling hook or blindly shoot out from behind cover. Alright, so maybe that was graduating Sleeping Beauty a little too quickly to the front lines, but rich kids were all about apprenticeships, right?

Victor had found Nathan, so maybe this was his chance to find a worthy successor to the treasure hunting life.

Strongly considering the possibility, whatever dreams and schemes he may have cooked up in his head didn't matter a lick if she wasn't interested in that kind of life. While it was one thing to sleep with a natural born adventurer, it was another to sign yourself up for the same lifestyle... Samuel firmly believed that Elena had what it took, but he had seen through her what all could have been on the line, what all would have to be sacrificed.

"I'm assuming that with all your fancy learning, you can at least read and write, right?" Testing the bait before trying to lure in Big Mona with the assistance of his Mojo, the thief laid out the smallest possible worm to gauge the waters. "Victor and I could always use a secretary for when we're out of the office." Which as fate would have it, was typically a fair bit.

Missing that the lure was connected to a fisherman's hook, the koi princess turned up her tail fins at the offer. After all, she didn't need to be the daughter of two titans in the industry to see that that was just bad business. "Now that's the first offensive thing you've said all night. To think you'd be so quick to squander a viable resource is just painful." In fact, the only thing more painful was that she had admit that she had paid at least a little attention to her parents' work.

Taught not to accept the first offer on the table, there were usually bigger and better rewards hidden out of sight. "I'm not saying you have to trust a known liability on the field right away, but I think it's only fair you know that I'm capable of doing more than just research. For your information, I've only thought about being a treasure hunter every single day when I was a kid. I..." Caught starting more than she'd intended to give away, Daniella confessed something that not even Zachariah Scott knew. "I always dreamed that someday I could help my daddy, and even after... Well, between us, I entertained the notion of finding him longer than I probably should have."

"What changed your mind?" Not entirely sold that she had fully given up that particular dream just yet, Sam knew that Dells would only say such a thing because she had a reason. You hear something enough, and it becomes damn near impossible to ignore.

Of course her reason had a three-letter name. "My mother... She always told me that realistically, it never works out for treasure hunters. Either they stab each other in the back or they aim too high only to fall back down to their deaths. She's probably said it a million different ways, but in the end, she always found a way to close the same wound." _If your father died hunting for some golden goose, what hope do you have_?

Both clenching itself and somehow absent at the same time, Daniella's hand had started to feel the weight of the one around it. Skin-to-skin, it was more than she'd gotten in the past, yet talking of her mother could only make her think of the iron fist that had held her tethered down all these long years. Struggling to be free, Sam only held on tighter.

"You never know until ya try." Encouraging the heiress where her mother clearly had not, it was all too easy to find himself sitting front row to Bai stamping out any and all semblance of confidence in her daughter. Heaven forbid the girl show even a hint of defiance.

Relishing the shades of blue that passed overhead almost as much as the feeling of someone else holding her hand, the heiress shut her eyes. "It sounds so nice when you say it like that. But even if I were to just strike out on my own, I wouldn't even know where to start looking."

Usually the key was to zone in on what it was you wanted to find - in this case, a bunch of bones crushed to dust on a sunken pirate ship... That was still loaded with gold... Unclaimed gold. _No, it was as good as lost, right? Right_. Telling himself that there was no getting back into that cave (and back out), Sam reminded himself that the real prize was the discovery, not the reward itself. _Although_ , since it was an empty wasteland, was there a better place to train his young ward than Libertalia? She had more than enough money to charter a boat, and...

Gleeful as a child unwrapping their final gift under the Christmas tree, the fortune finder nearly missed the thoughtful green cadence in her tone. "I mean... I know it was in Madagascar." For the sake of the hypothetical expedition, the historian let out a sigh of relief; much as he would have hated to side with Bai, if Dells couldn't figure out where to start when it was a matter of public record, she really might have been a lost cause after all. "But that's according to officials. Given what my father was into, he could have died anywhere. Honestly, Henry Avery being in Scotland was enough of a stretch, but Madagascar? What could he possibly have hoped to find?"

"Libertalia." Come on, this was someone that from the sounds of things could sincerely appreciate his discovery! Like hell he wasn't going to gloat about it. "Henry Avery founded a pirate colony."

"Pirate colony?!" A thousand and one questions vying for first billing, it was an itch she didn't even knew she had. Springing up so quickly that she gave herself whiplash, if he had been leaning over her, Sam would have gotten a major concussion. "With who? Anyone notable? What happened?! Were they a self-sustaining colony, or did they survive largely on trade? Did they have any enemies? Was it ruled as an autocracy, a diplomacy, dictatorship, or monarchy? Where is this place? How does no one know about this?!" Of everything she asked, there were two very important questions that she didn't.

Pleasantly surprised that anyone could get half as excited about this as he had, Sam reveled in this moment, picking and choosing what to answer when. "It was founded by a bunch of irreputable scalawags. The Rhode Island Pirate was his right-hand man."

"Thomas Tew?!" No way, Sam had to be bullshitting her. "How do you know?"

Grinning wide at the sheer velocity of eagerness bombarding him alone, when he heard that Daniella knew who Thomas Tew was, he made up his mind. Giving her hand another light squeeze, the thief was quickly right back in the thick of it. "Because I was there. I discovered Libertalia." Almost as an after-thought, Sam recalled that he hadn't been alone on that island. "Along with my little brother, who just so happened to be tagging along."

Mr. Drake? Wondering if Elena had been there too, the heiress could hardly wait to hear this tale. "You found a secret pirate colony?! That's like, the legit coolest thing EVER!" So cool in fact that just for a moment, it eclipsed the unsettled matter of her father's involvement. "What was it like? What did you see?!"

For half a heartbeat, Sam contemplated saying that he could show her, if she wanted. Whatever her answer to that would have been, he liked the current hand they were playing. "A bunch of stuff. I was even in Henry Avery's mansion. You know, for a pirate he sure had kingly taste." Ostentatious, his little brother would have said, but Sam figured that if you had that kind of wealth, why not go a little crazy and indulge?

Kingly? Wondering if that was some kind of allusion to a previous inquiry that had fallen by the wayside, Daniella shook her head, "You can't be serious. That's just way too cool to be real."

"Seriously." Ruffling her pale phantom locks to remind her of the consequences of doubting his word, the historian was legitimately on the up and up with this one. "I took a first-rate tour through the colony, all the way up through New Devon." Sam didn't have to wait long to see the spark of recognition in her eyes. "We were even on Avery's ship. Saw his corpse with my own two eyes."

"How did he die?" History had one version of events, so he could hardly blame the girl for being thirsty for an alternative.

Unfortunately, this was the part where it became impossible to forget that Rafe had been involved in the story as well. Dancing around the hole in the hull, Sam didn't quite meet Daniella's eyes, "He and Tew had it out on-board _The Fancy_ , to the death."

"But," going back to every sword fight she had even seen depicted or conjured up from the pages of a book, the heiress frowned as the outcome, "wasn't that his first mate you said?" She could only imagine what had come between them, to murder someone that you had once trusted so much.

"What do you expect out of pirates?" His brow shot up so quickly that for just a moment it seemed to have vanished into his hairline.

Shrugging in response, her brain betrayed her and wandered into the territory of cursed questions. _Could something like that happen to us_? It felt natural enough to ask, if not verging on wrong. "Fair enough. Do you have any clue why they might have been fighting?"

As a matter of fact, he did. In short, it was almost the same thing that had torn apart his family just as he was getting it back. It was the very thing that above all else had cost Dells hers. "Avery's millions."

Henry Avery's legendary millions. As that sank in, Daniella finally managed to remember that her father had been hunting for that very same treasure... But was it at the same time? It was probably too coincidental to have been far off the mark from running into one another at least once, yet with every fiber of her being Dells found herself wishing, hoping, and praying that she was wrong. That Sam had made all these wonderful discoveries before or after her father had passed through.

 _Please, no. Please, don't let this be what I think it is_. "Sam, who else was involved with _your_ adventure?"

Desperate, the way that she enunciated 'your', he could tell where she had gone off too, and he knew in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't bring her back from this one. True, Samuel could have stalled for a few minutes more by forcing her to have to ask once more (with even more razors stuck in the back of her throat, no doubt). If he were cruel, he could have dragged this thing out by bringing his little brother and everyone else down with him. He even could have refused to answer her (Rafe would have played it that way, he just knew it). But Daniella was damaged enough, so he couldn't do that to her again.

 _'I already know'_ , her eyes seemed to say. Drake wished that that was true, that he didn't have to be the one to tell her the reason why she had grown up without her dad. "Dells..."

Thicc with two 'c's, a lump formed in his own throat, and she had grown impatient waiting. "You told me that there was a reason I felt like I had to get that drunk. What was it?"

Heart sinking, Daniella was beginning to figure it out for herself, but she wanted Sam to say the words. No, she needed to hear him say the words, so she knew that they were true. _Just tell me that you never met my father, that you weren't involved, that we can go on living our lives without this shadow hanging over our heads. Lie to me if you have to, just tell me what I want to hear, damn you_! Pleading mutely with her eyes, there was never the same shade of sapphire in her gaze as there was in that moment.

Bringing their combined hands to the side of her face with a final squeeze, Sam wanted to lie to her about everything, denounce his involvement, even claim that he had never met Rafe in his life. But he couldn't. Not because it would have been wrong to deceive the young woman, but because the rest of the world had played his hand for him. Chloe and Nadine had all but promised to check that he made good with the heiress, so the rest weren't liable to be far behind. And say that he could somehow manage to convince them that lying to her was for the best, there was still Bai to contend with.

Terrified of what she was going to hear, she was prepared to live the rest of her life in denial if she had to. It might have made her weak, but it was what she thought best. "Wait, before you say anything else, know that I believe you. With all of my heart."

 _I trust you_. He had hated that she said that. He hated it so much. Lost in the middle of the sea, Sam could hear her words echoing in his head; he could also see how twisted things had become as a result, and how quickly. In a genuine moment of honest vulnerability, Dells had told him one thing, but now that they were at a crossroads on a cliff leading into a bottomless ravine, she was saying another.

A test this was not, but was it an early sign of her being unable to cope yet again?

On the first day after Sam had let it slip, he had expected the girl to lash out, to declare that she wasn't okay with the truth, that she would never be okay again, some melodramatic shit like that. Instead, she had gone catatonic and drank herself into next week. The following day - technically - she had been massively hungover as a result. There'd been a brief instance when she'd had her shit together enough to demand the answers she'd long been owed, but that clarity didn't last long.

Was it because they had put the song on repeat, or was the record merely broken?

"Dells," starting again, he knew what had to be done.

A little on the trickier side now that things had changed, he could have attempted to exonerate himself by pointing out that Rafe had completely lost it at the end. He could have appealed to the princess persona and painted a picture that the crazy bastard loved his little girl. Sam even could have told her that he and Nathan (mostly Nathan) had tried to save him, but he'd gone down with Avery's ship. Like with all stories, there was a kernel of truth to each of these, except the way he could have (and most likely would have) framed it, they would have been more untrue than not.

Sam's first instinct as a survivor was to do what he always did, but all he could think about was Nathan's face before the cliff left its mark. It had been so hurt, so utterly betrayed; not because of the lie itself (although that too was something they'd had to talk about), but because his little brother had wanted to believe in him. In the Sam that he had promised to be.

Daniella had the same exact look on her face now, the most fragile part of herself obviously wishing that she could somehow wrap her head around what needed to be said. In so many ways she was the lost lamb calling out to the prowling wolf, the inmate yet to learn the definition of insanity.

"We did it, we actually found Avery's treasure." Some of the pride was still sticking to the words, yet largely they had been punctured, deflating into the open air.

"We?" Those same hungry gray-blue eyes were staring back up at him, the steely depths shining with an unshakable determination and quite possibly even a death wish. Not in the right frame of mind, it was almost akin to his tenure in Scotland. Or even in Madagascar, battling through the viridian leaves of the jungle and the pirate-made mummy bombs, side-by-side.

Clearly she knew that Nathan had been involved in this particular exploit, and of all the people that had been there, there was only one that mattered to the heiress. About to drop the name that would alter all, Sam caught himself before he could get the first letter out. Could he tell her about how he knew Rafe without going into his own story?

It never would be the first thing he'd say about himself, yet in his own words, Sam never really had been as closed off about his past as his little brother. As the older sibling, maybe it was that he had at least gotten to enjoy a few extra years; maybe it the inverse, that he had had to go to those dark places to provide for himself and his little brother. Maybe it was just the kind of guy he was. Whatever it boiled down to, Samuel knew what he was and where he came from. And for a long time, he had never really been all that bothered by folks sticking their nose up at him.

Until he had met Rafe. Misjudging the multibillionaire to be just another rich idiot that he could take for a ride, Sam learned quickly that his new financier was more than he appeared. Unhinged, spoiled, and thoroughly determined to make his own name in the world, he'd been the perfect cocktail of crazy. Dangerous, and above all that kind of hypnotic fun that turned into a Molotov waiting to explode. Obviously it was a toxic attraction that would only end badly, yet he'd endorsed the man to his little brother, insisting that it was their only chance. In a way, he wasn't wrong about that...

Long story short, Rafe had been a bad call for the Drake brothers. Sam had seen his idea of 'dealing' with Vargas a mile away, and Nathan had never trusted him, with good reason. In hindsight, he was a little surprised that Rafe's people hadn't left Nate to drown in the ocean after their escape - Rafe said only that he thought Nathan might prove useful, but the topic had only come up the once. Who knew with Bai?

Thirteen long years later, Sam had repeated the same exact mistake, falling right back into bed with the same asshole that left him to rot. The difference was, he wasn't going to be the only one who got fucked over. He'd had a plan: find a solid lead, recruit his little brother, and profit. Things had gotten a little messy in the middle there, getting tangled once more in the man (and his main bitch), but who could blame a guy that had been in the pen for over a decade? Although if there was anything good to be said about that situation, it was that every minute wasted had made it that much easier to keep his eyes on the prize. Rafe could say whatever he wanted to Sam to remind him of the vast differences between where they came from and where they belonged, but it couldn't get to him anymore.

Lo and behold, after what was roughly another thirteen years, everything was coming back full circle, and Sam found that he had lost most of that immunity. Beginning some vague place with the origin of the brothers Drake, Sam's roots were something that would mention vaguely when relevant, not really caring one way or another. Then he met a ticking time bomb masquerading as a beautiful stranger, and that all had blown up in his face. A snob like Rafe would inevitably make him feel like shit for every tiny possible thing he could, but Dells wouldn't do such a thing, right? Not intentionally, but sometimes the biggest hurts came from the most innocent of accidents. Of pity, pressure, or plain ignorance.

Asking himself once more if he minded her knowing where he had come from, the thief realized that that was going to be a _long_ story. And personal.

Digging down deep out of some pesky little thing he'd been told was guilt, Sam found himself delving further and further back into the past for the moment that this had all begun. Bracing himself to divulge more to Dells than he remembered telling anyone else before, it occurred to him that it was something he'd never done while sober. He owed her that much. Or, he felt like he did at any rate.

So far as he had been concerned, Rafe had deserved it, and even Bai to a certain extent, but not their daughter. Sam's own father had been a real piece of work, however he had been given the chance to figure that out for himself; born with natural blinders, it probably would have taken the heiress longer than it should have to see what Rafe really was. Paradoxically, if he hadn't gone down on Avery's ship and had remained in his daughter's life, she wouldn't have become the person she was today, guaranteed. _And they probably never would have met_.

Sam of yesteryear would have asked what he owed this girl, but that was old Sam. Having more experience and some degree of personal growth since then, he could admit that he had to shoulder some of the blame for Daniella's situation. He may have become a bigger man, but he was still far from sainthood.

"It started with two brothers, looking to find the remains of the Gunsway heist..."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

"Closing Time", by Semisonic.

(Also, I apologize in advance - I wrote a lot of this chapter while sick. I dare say all of it, but technically the final bits are re-worked segments that I wrote back during Daniella's bender. I think. Might have come up with it before that... Anyways, sorry if this is way messier than it looks to me.)


	71. Looks Like (Pirates Need Avenging)

**\- Chapter Sixty-Five -**

 **Looks Like** **(The Pirates That Need Avenging)**

"We did it, we found Avery's treasure. Well, _I_ found Avery's treasure on the Fancy." Oh-so modest and humble about the extent of his discovery, the roguish adventurer wanted it known who had claimed it first. "Nadine and her Shoreline goons were still working with Rafe up until that point, but things were getting pretty tense." The grizzled brunette made it a point to say that the woman had been working with Rafe, even though he wasn't sure of the exact moment she had had enough of his shit.

"I'll deny I ever said this," lightening the scene just a tad, the narrator stood up for an individual that he didn't have the easiest relationship with, "but, uh, she probably survived because she had been the one other person to realize what the treasure had cost." Provided his audience had been listening to the story thus far, Daniella would have known who the other was.

Not quite able to reconcile Chloe's friend with the woman in Sam's story, she pictured Nadine to be a faceless figure, imposing enough to give the Drake brothers hell. Having said that, the barely functioning part of Daniella's brain that was logging information did recall seeing the name 'Shoreline' stamped on some crates that had been sent to storage. Her mother mentioned them from time to time on some of her dealings, saying the name as a cautionary tale, a consequence of what happened if you broke a deal.

In person or in the press, Wen Bai gave no indication that she knew what had happened to Rafe, it was possible that she really didn't. Or maybe it was just easier to pretend that her one true love on life had died before he had the chance to fail.

From the perspective of someone that knew more about loss than love, it was easy enough to see the appeal of not wanting someone you cared deeply for to be painted in a bad light. So for whatever else she was feeling, Dells could sympathize with her mother on that much.

"...Cost?" Tongue thick and working overtime to compensate for the lengthy spans of silence, the unused muscles in her mouth chewed on raw words that had never been learned before. "Cost. Yes, these things do seem to have a their price, don't they?" As logic and things learned in school filtered back and forth to give the mind something solid to lean on, the heiress remembered a passage that seemed fitting. "'I had an inheritance from my father. It was the moon and the sun. And though I roam all over the world, the spending of it's never done.'"

Hemingway. "For Whom the Bell Tolls." Sam recognized the quote straight away, his gaze fading from the haunted fall of ash and the near-deafening blast of canon fire to the early dawn glow basking the heiress in a pale light. Rose gold and scattered with periwinkle, the morning cut a stark contrast to the mourning dew catching on downcast ebony blades.

Silhouette the slightest shiver against the surrounding salmon sky, sighing slate swathed her shoulders (not unlike cloaks of old) and seashell synthesized a serene yet sorrowful halo. Somehow greater than the Nascita di Venere (what, hang out with Victor long enough, and you pick up a thing or two, such as famous works that were frequently reprinted and even more frequently requested), the sunrise was only missing the sea.

"You..."

Static in that the constant flinching of the skin was only just barely visible to the naked eye, even caught up in the hustle of the distant past, Sam could tell that the woman looked without really seeing, was present without really being there in the moment. In short, she was hardly more than a victim of the living dead.

Focus on the circulating solar disk in the sky if it was on anything at all, the sapphires that were so blue that night became glass, smogged over by smoke and mirrors. By heartache. "So, what was it?" Potent as the venom laced into her tone was, the mind within was only just registering the origin of holes in his stomach.

 _Another falsehood._ And to think, for just a moment she thought that they had found common ground.

Mirroring the night-long reluctance to fully meet the other's gaze, the heart of the question was so simple that the immediate answer was evident: the price for finding Henry Avery's lost treasure had been Rafe. No longer permitted the excuse of needing that one great discovery, what was left was the life the businessman might have led, the things he could have focused his attention on now that he had made his name in the world. The life his daughter might have had with her father. _Above all, the life that she could have had_.

Fingers twitching, they missed the feeling of having something real to hold on to. Instead of face the music, the thief turned his attention to the rising sun, gesturing to the ultimate sign of hope. Sure, he could have gotten all sappy, but that wasn't really his thing, so Sam compromised and told her the one thing that had nearly made everything for naught. "It almost cost my little brother everything. His new life, his marriage. Elena."

Elena and Nathan may have been little more than strangers at this juncture, however it was next to impossible to imagine one without the other. But that wasn't what the young woman needed to hear, and they both knew that. If there was any way to make this better, it had to come from the heart. "What about you? What did finding Avery's treasure cost you personally?"

Cut between past and present, there were two answers vying to be the first out of his mouth. But in the end, only one of them won out, "My little brother."

 _Almost. That was almost good enough_. It was obvious that for Sam, everything was always going to circle back around to the little brother he loved more than anything (or anyone) else. Specifically, Daniella knew that he meant that this had cost Sam Nathan's trust in him, and for good reason - Nate had been out of the business for a couple of years before his long-lost sibling returned from the dead. He had thought that being back in the action was what his little brother needed, that he would remember why they had went into this life in the first place.

Not entirely sure what she had hoped to hear when everything was one broken mess inside her head, Dells rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, coming as close to facing Sam as she had all night. "Anything else?"

Hours ago, there had been a cloud floating over the grove beneath the swash of indigo sky. Made up of stars and sapphires and dreams, there had been something tangible in that cluster, fleeting as a heartbeat and decidedly serene. There wasn't a name for something so finite, just the feeling it had left behind. And it was gone now, wiped out as if it had never existed in the first place.

Daniella's fragile state had certainly been demolished by all of the facts she had been told, and if there had been anything left standing, it had definitely been obliterated by the revelation of just how well he had known her parents. In fact, upon hearing in no uncertain terms that Sam had been with not one of but both of her parents, the young woman had promptly vomited in disgust.

Taking a small reprieve from the main adventure, when the question of if the resemblance had anything to do with the reason why he was interested in her was thoughtlessly blurted out, there had been a response. Not a great one, the reply had been reluctantly given and instantly regretted. Daniella was a pretty enough little thing beneath that hassled umber frizz, made even more appealing when the clothes had come off. And yeah, the resemblance had definitely been a factor, as had her relation to crazy and crazier... There was too much resentment, too much unresolved attraction and regret. Too much history. But he probably should have found a better way to express all of that than just a simple 'you're pretty'.

'Pretty'. The word had struck a cord in the heiress, and not a very good one at that. _Pretty_ , like a discount distilled version of her model-beautiful mother. Strikingly like her father. Not even able to finish that train of thought, the young woman had barfed again.

Queasy whenever her thoughts came even remotely close to acknowledging the connection they all shared (seriously, the next time anything came out of her mouth, there was every chance that it would be blood), Dells had shoved that aside to just listen to the rest of the story. To the facts as Sam recounted them.

Now that things were winding down and the end was nigh, she wanted to look at Sam, to see if he felt anything at all about what he had done, however she couldn't muster up the nerve.

Once more that wide-eyed little girl waiting up for her daddy to come back with pirate booty, she didn't know what to feel now that she had learned the truth of her father's death. The greed, the obsession, the hate... He had given in to every single bad quality he had, and not once had he stopped to think of those he had left waiting at home. Not his beloved daughter, nor her just as loving mother.

What could she possibly take away from that? Feeling a rush of gratitude to Nathan for at least trying to save his enemy, there was rage and confusion for days. Anger, contempt, bitterness, and more than anything else, hurt. Had there really not been one single moment that her father stopped to think of his family at all? Mr. Drake had thought of Elena, and that was even before they had had Cassie.

And Sam... Unable to deal with a lot of what had already been laid on the table, the heiress really couldn't fathom how she felt. Not in general, and definitely not towards him. _Sam_... _What have you done to me_? Feeling almost dirty, Dells held herself, mind doubting every frame, questioning how much of it had been true, and how much of it had been him using her for his own ends.

 _"Tell me true, it crossed your mind to take advantage of the situation, didn't it?"_ _Bai kissed the side of her daughter's head, eyes alight with poison and secret knowledge. Knowing full well what was what, she cooed to Daniella without really taking her eyes off the natural-born brunette. "You're such a pretty little thing, so much like your father."_

Stone calcifying around the heart and blocking the space between memory, it wasn't so long ago that her mother had hinted at this turn. Naturally things where too chaotic and happening too rapidly to really think about why she would say such a thing, but now that everything had slowed down... Was there something to it, or had that merely been more cryptic bullshit? Her mother was definitely petty enough.

One minute bleeding into two rather quickly, despite the question going unanswered, he reached out for the recoiling ball. Silence a troubled one, the heiress was trembling like a leaf in a wind that was not blowing; understandable as the reaction was, he'd dealt with her long enough to recognize a panic attack. Everything was going wrong for her, yet when she saw him coming to her, she had held up her hand, signifying in universally understood gestures that she just wanted to be left alone. Persisting in spite of this, Sam could tell that even if he had said that he was only interested in getting them back to the hotel then, she wouldn't have listened.

'Not having it' an understatement, Dells smacked away the hand that she had once associated with safety. Look far more reproachful than it was apologetic, she once again threw up five reasons to stay away - the young woman needed to think, and she couldn't do that clearly with him there. Rising as if possessed by the woodland spirit of a fawn, the heiress didn't give the man another chance before darting off into the surrounding trees.

Jade, green, emerald, moss, pine, sage, and mint, the early morning leaves were all a blur against the cocoa bark, the ashy soldiers and the elms between. Fallen stars from last year crunched loudly beneath her galloping hooves, the sprigs of spring bowing low to make way. Distance the driving force more than escape, the adrenaline pounding in her veins would do whatever it took to get away from the deceiver, even if that meant sprouting wings.

 _What was that song again? The one about survival_?

Uneven as the earth was, it was inevitable that the damp clay would get the better of the young woman sooner or later. Hardly even thinking about where it was she was planning on going on an island paradise in what was probably someone's backyard, there was only forward. No backwards, not even to see if she was being chased. And no side view to watch for any wolves that might close in on their vulnerable prey. _My eyes are gone now_.

One of the biggest unexpected perks of having Sam around was that he had been there to pick her back up after she fell, assuming that he hadn't caught her first; in these last couple of days on the island (the parts she could remember at least), Daniella had lost track of how many times he had been there for her. Fifty? Seventy-five? Surely it must have been eighty without going into hyperbole. He was always there for her, whenever she had need of him...

Brave enough to scare the monsters out of the closet when it was time for bed and guard the bathroom door when she was in the shower, her knight had kept her as safe as anyone could have. But she had to remind herself that he wasn't a knight - he was a thief. And he was truly a credit to his profession, catching the priceless heirloom before it could shatter into a million worthless pieces on the floor, holding the prize steady as the world raged all around. He'd even gone so far as wrapping it all up in bubble-wrap and calling it an embrace. Consoling... or merely sizing up the potential payout?

In the gaping hole left in her chest, the answer was obvious, but in her head, she knew that it was probably wrong. So much about this was always wrong, from every angle...

Seasoned and showing it, the age difference should have made her think twice about entertaining a single thought of silver foxes and daddies. Pardons, a distinguished older gentleman with experience (really, internet culture was a plague on all of mankind). The heiress was only a school girl, at that age where she should have been focusing on her studies and the foreseeable future, not... Other things. Acquaintanceship rushed due to extenuating circumstances, while Jay had been a vanilla-flavored sample of things to come, Sam was exactly what that lonely princess in her ivory tower dreamed of. Oh, God, had there been a single moment that she hadn't been attracted to the pepper in his auburn locks?

Hired by her mother of all people - stricken by doubts, there was a serious gnawing in the back of her mind concerning the biggest traitor of the century - everything about her relationship with Sam should have been strictly professional. Daniella would have liked to think that her biological blood relative was above selling her daughter out, but that was obviously not the case. And Sam... Well, the less she thought about that, the better.

Finally there came the largest hurdle of all: her family. All had lain claim to the latest link in the dynasty, and while not a single one of them stopped to ask what she might want, it went against everything she had ever been taught to refuse her elders. Family was everything to Daniella, as fucked up as the roots in her family tree were. A good daughter had to at least attempt to do right by her family, no matter what. But what was right?

Highest at the table and most honored of all, her father had no voice with which to speak, nor did so many others in the line. In the strictly traditional mind of the grandfather she had never met before, despite the bloodline being tainted, Daniella was to be engaged to a good, vetted boy from a trusted family. The serpent in heels doubtlessly had her own plans for the girl, but she would likely frown on anything happening between the hired help and the heiress. In the Queen of Traitors view, her daughter was too good for the likes of someone like Sam, but was her biggest issue the perceived difference in class or age? Given her own preferences, it clearly wasn't a race thing, so maybe it had something to do with being a generational thing-

And there went the rest of the ginger ale she'd been coaxed into drinking. After waking up in just a towel (and the arms of a certain man, but she couldn't think about that if she wanted to keep her footing), Dells remembered him asking how she felt. After everything, she thought it was really sweet of him, but now she even had to second-guess that as some kind of play. Was it to keep things as they were, or to maybe make up for...? No, she really shouldn't dwell on that business. Honestly, considering her record on surfaces that weren't specifically made for track, it would be best if she didn't think at all. But how could she turn it all off when there was just so much there to unpack? While she had gotten dressed, Sam had done her a kindness, ordering ginger ale and a plain turkey sandwich for her to try to hold down.

 _So much for that one._

Virtually alone in every conceivable aspect right now, the only way to come out of this thing even mildly alright was to keep moving. Sliding on the sopping terrain to the point that she was almost doing the splits, Daniella was terrified that no matter how far she drove her body, there would be no escaping what had happened. Setting aside all the personal crap, was it even possible to get through this muddled assignment when she couldn't even stomach looking at the person she was stuck with? And vice versa. Say for a moment that she actually believed that coming out of this thing was a possibility, how was she supposed to move on with her life after this? From...?

Hate was a strong word, however it went without saying that the young woman really had serious issues with her mother these days. Assuming that things would revert back to normal when the journey was finished, would it come down to kicking the woman out of the manor? Land owners with more than enough property between them, would they purposefully avoid one another? Once the girl had graduated, would her mother try to kick her out of the house? Technically she did have some legal right, and as an adult in the eyes of the law, there was a very real shot that the matter would go to court.

Obviously the heiress wasn't overly concerned with affording a new place (and truthfully the change in environment might prove better for her mental health). What she did care about was her new... well, it wasn't as simple as calling all these people friends, but she really did like them for the most part. Dells didn't want to say goodbye to any of them, although how could she possibly keep in contact with them once all this business had been settled?

Rafael could potentially want to stay around, even though they had never really clicked all that much. Chloe seemed like she would probably answer her calls, so that was a big plus, and Elena might as well, except... Maintaining a friendship with the cheery blonde woman would be awkward, wouldn't it? Somehow she could imagine Mr. Drake encouraging the bond, even with it being a conflict of interests; Dells didn't want to cause any problems though, so even if she did try, she could picture herself allowing the relationship to wither.

While Cassie was the closest in age and the most likely to be her friend on paper, there was better chance that Logan would want to hang out. Speaking of the surfer, the heiress should totally give him a call, make sure that he was doing alright. After all, he'd come back around to save her sorry ass when Angel and Ashley had been hosting her. Although, given to whom the father-to-be was related, a friendship would only serve to complicate things further. Best case scenario was that he would remind her too much of the person she was trying to forget. Worst case? She could try to do something very regrettable that was the height of hypocrisy.

Sam had a strong effect on her, and her mind was not exactly the pinnacle of mental wellness.

Broken dial stuck on the classics, the heiress saw that glass of ginger ale, and the first night she had crawled into bed with Sam, and the golden halo of the angel that had saved her from almost drowning. There was a guy that generously turned away when it was clear that she was still too shy to disrobe, a girl that had erected a wall of pillows between them, and a worried giant that had floated over the unconscious body of Sleeping Beauty. There was a couple walking through the empty city streets at three in the morning.

 _So much for that one_.

 _Pretty_.

 _Sam_... _What have you done to me_?

 _Almost. That was almost good enough_.

 _What was that song again? The one about survival_?

Daniella knew that in order to survive, she had to keep moving. Screw the fruit bursting underneath her feet that would never be collected now, and damn the curious turtles and slugs that had popped out of their shells to impede her progress. If the young woman stopped for even a moment, all of her thoughts might very well catch up to her. Or worse: Sam might.

Although... would that really have been the worst thing in the world if he did?

He might... _might... what_? Unsure what she would do if they were to come face-to-face at this moment, Dells had no clue what could possibly be said or done to fix things at this juncture. Crushing when she was only an explorer, that hopelessness had only added to the weight on her shoulders. The young woman knew that she relied on him too much, but this really was something that she couldn't do on her own. It had to be a conversation. A compromise, one great lie, hypnosis, something to get beyond this. _Anything_.

 _Because hiding the truth always works so well_.

Coming this close to debating that point with herself, the heiress was certain of nothing, only that when she tried to picture the most inevitable of moments, she couldn't face Sam if she had to. Her stomach was already all over the island and the nightmare of some poor janitor, so she hardly needed to risk what was left of the lining on the slim chance that looking at him would change anything. Her mother had... and her father... all three had done horrible, terrible things, but involving her in this capacity was just...!

Definitely not able to hold back the spew, the only good thing Daniella could say was that she didn't see any blood coming out. Not yet. _Just give it time_ , she thought grimly to herself.

Tripping on a stump that was covered in fungi, the woman barely caught herself before she kissed the dirt. Not a fan of what fungus could potentially do to a person, the heiress was quick to carry on, absolutely set that she not glance over her shoulder. Not even when she thought she heard something moving a short ways off from her present location.

Gagging on a whiff of something lingering in the moist air, some overripe stench powerful enough to mask the scent of her own sick, between the nausea and the raw reek, she stumbled to her knees. Crawling off to a sagging mulberry bush that was dripping with plump fruit and unpicked spoils, being down low to the earth did nothing to help ease the assault of her nostrils, but at least there it was going to be harder to find her. Possibly.

One hand in front of the other, as her palm pressed into the overgrown grass, everything broke and became upside-down. Jolted, the girl thought for just a moment that her stomach had finally had enough of her ill treatment at long last and had rebelled, ripping itself out. And at the same time the blushing sky had finally made good on its threat to Chicken Little, switching places with the open earth. Head swimming to straighten out at least one thing that had happened today, the last thing she saw clearly was the decomposing body of some local critter beneath the underbrush.

Mud meeting her face-first, that short-lived tumbling sensation was a divot in the land, a trap that had been dug so many years ago. How the heiress had missed it was hardly a mystery, when her head was literally everywhere else but on her surroundings. Again, it was only a matter of time until the ground had taken her down; doing so in spectacular fashion, she would probably be brushing her teeth for weeks and still not get all of the dirt out of her mouth. Assuming of course she lived that long. At this rate... Maybe dying in a hole wasn't the worst thing.

Contented to just wait death out, anything was better than seeing the disgraceful knight again. Than having to call out like some damsel that was no better than a ditz with Daddy's credit card. _Urgh, there was that word again_... Making a mess of her shoes all over for what was quite possibly the sixth time that morning, the girl rubbed away the latest coating of bile and soil.

This wasn't so bad, right? Trying not to draw comparisons of how cramped and dark this hole was going to get when the sun went away, Dells could almost reach the top standing up straight. Maybe if she got on her tippy-toes, she could climb out?

Plan firmly in mind, the heiress took a deep, centering breath, clapped her hands together, and got to work. Discovering that she came just shy of getting her fingers out of the hole, the next step was to jump for it. Scrambling to catch on to something on the surface, those five reasons to stop found purchase on the second hop. The first hadn't exactly gone all that well, her knee seizing up at the most inopportune moment.

Forgoing that minor set-back, it wasn't long before busted nails snagged deep enough roots resilient enough to bear her ever-lessening weight. Struggling to pull herself topside, it was with no shortage of grunting and groaning that the heiress dragged herself to the half-way mark.

 _I... I got this! I do!_

Escape a very attainable goal, panic swallowed her heart whole when at the last moment the grass had snapped. Fortunately, Daniella had been close enough to clutch desperately at the edge. Dangling there from the ledge, the heiress put everything she had into holding on and climbing out of that pit. If she didn't go back, eventually the others would send out a search party for her, and the young woman had already wasted enough of their time and effort. It was Cassie's time to shine now, and as a guest she'd already encroached on too much of the birthday girl's attention.

Reaching up for that final stretch, inexplicably Daniella felt a strong hand wrapping around her wrist. Yanking her up with only the slightest of difficulties, she supposed that it was probably always going to end this way, with Sam saving her yet again from another mishap. Except... getting pulled up enough to get a good look at the person that had rescued her, Dells realized that it wasn't her usual hero...


	72. Fishing For Unicorns

**\- Chapter Sixty-Six -**

 **Fishing For Unicorns**

Rich as the stained pine of his childhood and vivid as the chocolate cake he had consumed after a victory, the dirt breaking off in his palm was a dark umber. Mud painting the veneer with woodsy tawny and real trail mix, a clump of grass was all that was keeping a bent stalk poking from the side of her head. Personally, he would have preferred it if it were a flower instead. More feminine that way.

Covered head to toe from what he could tell, if it weren't for the new phantom locks brushing her shoulder, he might not have even recognized the catch of the day. "Daniella Adler, we meet again."

Perhaps he was mistaken - maybe there was one other thing about the young heiress that was a dead give away for anyone that had ever seen her parents before.

Filled with that lovely shade of f-e-a-r, her eyes were identical glassy winter storms glossed over by the threat of eternal darkness. Verging on the cusp of popping out of that hard little skull when she saw the identity of the one that had rescued her, he could practically smell the horror caught in the back of her throat. Or maybe that was the unfortunate creature decomposing next to them.

Black as tar and thicker than blood, the instant panic she felt seemed lumped to all sides of the vertical tunnel, congealing into one great choking mass of anxious terror. Petrified into silence, the only noise she made was a high shrieking sound, strangled by pride and sheer emotion. Her bodyguard was some kilometers away, but maybe if the young woman could manage to scream loudly enough, he might hear and come running.

 _Poor thing, what was a songbird without a voice_?

He would have told her to relax as she dangled those final few inches from the surface, however that would have been a waste of breath. Obviously the girl remembered him from their last encounter, at least if the stricken look on her face was any indication. For his own part, there was no love to be lost when there was never any to be had in the first place. All the same, things might be a little easier if they could see things eye-to-eye. _If not_...

Aware of how many red flags his appearance must have been setting off for the young woman, he would have rathered the situation be different. Less messy. Life was hardly ever so kind as that though; if he'd had his way on the matter, there wouldn't have to be a wedding at all, and he would be back in his cousin's sweet penthouse with his worldly possessions and the Mollies.

As a good son dedicated to the betterment of his family and loyal to the Mountain Master, Ruan Jian was the "lucky" bachelor selected to wed the granddaughter of the Dragon Head. As one of the highest ranked members of the North American branch, it was a privilege just to be considered for the honor. As the younger cousin of the Mountain Deputy, Pan Yahui, there was nothing but pressure to succeed as both a gang leader and a kinsman.

Blood and honor were everything he had been brought up to respect, however as an individual, Jian desired no part of an arranged marriage. In fact, he shunned the very institution on the grounds of age. Still in that golden era of his twenties and basically living the high life ruling a modern kingdom, why should he want to settle?

None of this was new, and something he had already tried to communicate with his just as reluctant bride-to-be. Granted, he could see how the circumstances might have left a poor impression on the girl. Overzealous to say the least, his men had invited the heiress to one of his many bases of operation, and they had gotten a little rough. Masters at their craft, it was fine if they got carried away on the swine, but this, this one was a pearl. No, the silver egg that would hatch his golden goose. _That was the saying, yes_?

Jian was still learning to speak the language proficiently, however he had come to wrap his head around a good number of American customs. Such as the gratuitous use of brute force. Grip firm so that she didn't go tumbling back down the rabbit hole again, he would sooner die than part from the woman that was to be his wife, yanking her to the rim of the rut.

Quivering all over, the frightened child didn't know what to do with herself, if she should cry out for mommy and daddy to scare away the monster underneath the bed or if she should try and fight. Cute as that routine might have looked (or not, his nose twinging as he remembered how strong she could get when cornered), the gangster had no desire to overstay his welcome. Pulling the heiress topside, his first act was to order silence, pressing his fingers against her cracked lips.

"Shh, shush now." In an earnest effort to bridge the gap between them, he opted for English where he could, however certain things he only knew to express in his native tongue. "I just wanna talk. That'll be easier if it's just the two of us."

Never far from the trail, after the heiress and her companions had slipped out of his sphere of control, Jian had had each tailed from a distance. The problem was pinning the young woman herself - traveling over the sea would do that. Some of his men had grown antsy at losing her scent (even Yahui), however it was hardly rocket surgery to figure out where her bodyguard was taking her. Obviously he would go home, where they were guaranteed room and board, a safe place to lick their wounds and regroup. Learning that it was the niece's birthday had come later, during reconnaissance.

Following the duo to the island where his brother lived, Jian had selected a handful of his best men to escort him to keep an eye on the situation and wait for an opening. Naturally Angel and Ashley had volunteered to come along, but it seemed to the boss that this was a job that required a certain kind of finesse that those two sorely lacked. Again, masters at their craft, but maybe not the people you would want to bring along if you were trying to coax out a unicorn.

Sugar cube in hand, Jian acknowledged the cagey way his bride-to-be's eyes kept darting around the grove, as if she were expecting someone else to pop out from the bushes. If it was her man, she would be sorely disappointed to learn that he had elected to give her some space after their little spat. _For about five minutes_.

"It's just us." The fisherman might have left it at that, if the sugar-coated carrot didn't require more slack. "Only two of my men are on the island. Ludoviko you can't miss, although you might not guess that he's one of mine. Then there's Zanny. Zan to you, although it's highly unlikely you'll meet him here. Travel does not agree with Zanny, but as he says, I was obligated to bring him."

Pinky finger digging deeper into her jaw than it needed to, it was probably for the best that the young heiress learn what kind of man he was before the nuptials. If his goal had been to ease her overactive imagination, the triad leader could have informed her that Zanny should still be up in his room sleeping. The lazy bastard. The last time he had seen Ludo, the big guy was waiting down the road to bring him to breakfast when they were finished there.

But he wasn't there to look out for the little girl's well-being. Not yet. "By my count, the closest one to us is Drake."

Jump-started like a dead car battery, the little rabbit's heart began to thump wildly in her chest, filling his ears with the sounds of an old lullaby. By the light of day, things were kept fairly low-key and professional, but when the sun set and the liquor was flowing... Well, as the evidence indicated, there was no denying that the Adler girl cared about her bodyguard, perhaps a little more than she should.

Heiress going still as a porcelain mask when she met his dark hazel gaze, Jian surveyed the girl, "Are you going to behave? I would rather have this conversation like two civilized adults, but I'm not above making you listen." Oh, his bride-to-be was going to hear him out, one way or another.

Given one single chance, the young woman hesitated before nodding softly against the flat of his palm. Uneasy about something he had said, the rarest of birds stole another peek around his shoulder, almost as if she didn't trust him at his word. A major goal for the marriage, for now it was just enough that his sweet bride-to-be wasn't sounding the alarm.

Except no, apparently the brat couldn't be trusted to be anything more than a frightened little girl that never ventured further than her mother's skirts. Raising the alarm the moment that he had removed his hand from her face, the glassy surface had cracked and her mouth was no longer a hopeless line but a screaming circlet. Wailing loud enough to awaken the nearby deceased, her cries weren't enough to rouse her faithful vassal it would seem. _What a_ _pity_.

Reaching into the cinnamon depths of his snazzy stitched ruby blazer, the man ripped out a concealed hand canon and swung it in retribution, catching the young woman just below the eye. Anger only a part of the equation, if he was going to tame his horned mare, he was going to have to show her who was master.

Weary of another, the silver foal shied away from the man when he raised his hand a second time. Bleating out for help that wasn't coming, the golden gander recoiled from the brusque brush of the thumb that smoothed the bright magenta splotch spreading across the side of her face. "Don't you look at me like that. I offered to play nice."

Hope dying slightly in her eyes when no one came running, the heiress scanned the horizon as if there was a chance that they had come further than she thought. No such luck, instead the young woman stupidly went for the aforementioned sixshooter. Scuffle brief and largely one-sided when her heel sharply came down on his instep, it was the little girl that had ended up with the gun. Displaying some level of basic competence, the young filly was apparently better informed than most, knowing to check the safety before pointing the barrel at the thing she wanted dead.

Lacking confidence in the way she held the weapon, due to the heiress' shoddy aim it seemed more likely that she would hurt herself than him. Somehow, that did not seem like it bothered her nearly as much as his butchers. "I'm not going back to Angel and Ashley!"

Mildly surprised to see how much of an impression they had left, he shook his head. "Too loud. They would only attract the wrong attention here, so I commanded them to stay in the city." Technically speaking this island was located in a free zone, however it was close to a territory that was not triad. Smarter than to risk causing an incident, it was not easy convincing them to stay when Ashley suggested going straight for the girl again and slitting anyone's throat that dared get in the way. "So long as I keep them busy, they obey."

Frown deeply troubled, it was clear that she had her doubts about the pair being under anybody's control; impressed by shows of force, it was true that Angel was the only one of the two with the patience for a meeting like this. The wet dream of the Spanish Inquisition, the two were an inseparable pair, so it wouldn't do to try to bring one without the other.

Coming to terms with that much, she wrapped her finger around the trigger and pointed it at Jian, "What did you do to Sam?" Stepping around the hole so that she wasn't blown back inside, despite how beaten she had looked earlier, Daniella was coming dangerously close to embodying the gang's namesake. "Where is he?"

Testing the mettle of the little twit that had been chosen for his bride, the triad leader stepped into the barrel, holding the weapon steady so she had a clean shot. "It's a big park. How should I be expected to know?" Guessing from the dumbfounded look on her face that she hadn't done her homework, he generously supplied a free history lesson for the schoolgirl. "You didn't hear? This place was a hot spot until a string of unsolved murders in the nineties."

Actually true, they never did catch the guy - the murders had just ceased one day without an explanation. The local government hadn't found the killer, so they never re-opened the park officially. Naturally that had attracted shady sorts, but no more than there would have been otherwise. As to why no one was out there now, Jian suspected that the recent storm had something to do with that.

"Unsolved?" There was a crack in her voice that even the tone-deaf could hear.

Nothing easier than taking candy from a baby, while she was distracted with thought, he wrested the weapon away from the heiress before her sweaty palms could ruin the custom tiger eye grip. Waving the revolver in front of her face before sucking in a deep breath through his teeth, Jian showed his bride-to-be restraint. "Try that again, and there'll be one more for the cops."

Taking no more chances, he pressed the cold metal tip up into her ribs. Due to the delicate balance of his standing he couldn't kill her on purpose, but the blanks he had ordered special should do the trick. "Next time, when I give you the chance, you should take it. Although, I must caution you - there are worse than me." Jamming the point against his target's chest for good measure, the groom-to-be spurred her forth. "Now move."

March through the unmarked grove a short one, the insects and rodents were beginning to stir beneath their feet, a bird singing dutifully in its nest to its eggs. Pale brown feathers drifted lightly overhead, molted from the weakling that hadn't yet attracted a mate, and probably never would. A squirrel chattered with a gray kinsmen from two trees away, watching the two passing humans with great big shining eyes that both threatened and pleaded. It's brethren seemed to not notice either lumbering giant.

Redundant to make this a muted trek when the entire point of revealing himself to the heiress was to win her over, the man only gave her long enough to accept that this was happening. Possessively wrapping his scarlet sleeve around the young woman as if she had already agreed, the hand that wasn't steering the girl was keeping the gun trained to her side. One way to teach his bride-to-be manners, the girl had best mind herself if she didn't want him to do what she couldn't. Seriously, her body was busted up enough.

Side-eyeing the young woman as they went, Jian started, "I just wanted you to understand everything that's at stake here. Everyone else is so focused on the bigger picture, they seem to forget that we're the ones everything is happening to."

From the look on her face, Jian presumed that she agreed with his reasoning, so he continued, "This isn't an ideal situation for either of us, but that doesn't mean we can't make the most of it, right? Let me ask, as American royalty, have you ever felt powerful and in charge?" There was a pause, as if she were genuinely considering what he was laying out. "We seldom are ever in control. Some think they are, and some genuinely do have a taste of power at select moments, but in the end, most aren't. This is a better compromise than anyone could hope for."

 **[Just A Peek]**

"Compromise?" It was a word that she knew well enough, being the daughter of business itself.

 _Where did my courage go?_ Hoping to find an inner strength that had long ago fled, the heiress grunted as a stray twig swatted her in the face, the jade leaves tickling her cheek and nose and the tan limb scratching everyplace else. _So much for chivalry_.

Index curling around the ghost trigger that she had so brightly failed to pull, on a good day Daniella could probably have done as Jian had suggested and ended it right then and there. _Right between the eyes,_ she could hear her father's voice as he had threatened some faceless soldier back in Scotland.

Maybe she could have done it, but today wasn't a good day. Not any more, not after the last stars had faded out of the night sky. And as much as she hated to admit it, there was bound to be a list of back-up grooms to take Jian's place on the off chance that things had completely fallen apart. Despite how dark these encounters had ended, at least he had made two separate attempts to speak to her.

"What do you think you have against us that we need to compromise?" Her parents' daughter in the end, the only thing she could think to do was puff out her feathers to hide the damage beneath the down.

 **[Show's Over]**

Amused by this show of bravado, he chuckled at the young foal, "You mean besides having one of the largest gangs in living history? Only information and resources, I'm afraid. Or..." Taking this matter quite seriously after the lecture his cousin had given him, Jian regarded the young woman as thoughtfully as he might an ally with a half-way decent plan.

"You mean personally?" Answering for her, he shook his head, "It's not what I have against you but what I can do _for_ you. Imagine for a moment that we agreed to this production - we would have the power to do whatever we wanted. I can keep managing my men and living my life, and you can do whatever it is you have your heart set on. You want to be a star? Done. You want to kill that kid in third-grade that popped his gum in your hair? Done. You will finally be able to put all the pieces in your life exactly where you want them to be, and the only person we'll have to answer to is on the other side of the world."

Heart racing at the prospect of how close the unattainable gem was to being in his possession, for just a moment Jian thought that he had lured his prize out into the open at last. Rigid set in her shoulders dropping just a hair, the heiress had even gone so far as forgetting the firearm, however, she was far from taking the bait. "I... No, none of that is..."

Quick to remind the mare of who was holding the reigns before she could bolt, Jian stopped them just shy of their destination. "Examples. Fame, money, and vengeance are the biggest motivators I've seen, but if you want something else, we may see." Language barrier more prone to appear when discussing terms, the gamer-gangster took another stab at it, using what he had gleaned thus far. "What about safety?"

Tick subconscious, the girl lightly bobbed her head, telling him that he was getting closer to the mark. Judging solely from her reaction to Ashley and Angel, the heiress wanted very much to be safe, to not have to live in constant terror of the shadows on the walls and what might be lurking below. His bride-to-be had spent more than enough time at the mercy of ghosts, and who better to keep the monsters at bay than the one that employed them in the first place?

"Because I can keep you safe. I won't pretend like I will always be there to catch you when you fall, like some, but I can make it so that no one can ever hurt you again." Hinting to the young woman that he knew all about her little moonlight tryst on the beach, the truth was that Jian still wasn't quite sure how he felt about his betrothed having a built-in lover.

Games the reason why he knew that you had to sweeten deal to get that diamond tiara from the guy curious about a vending machine (of all things), or the ear of the ealdorman for the Crones, Jian had one final way to convince his bride-to-be. "Do you remember when I said that there were worse than me? If this does not happen, they will come for you by any means necessary. I don't enjoy killing, but those guys? My cousin is one of them, and he'll make it so that anyone you've talked to these last five years will suffer."

More naive than that, his bride-to-be wasn't the sort that wanted all of that blood on her hands.

 **[Dance Rehearsal In The Mind of The Broken]**

He wasn't threatening them, but Jian was promising that they very well could be hurt as a consequence. "That teacher of yours that the girls are so fond of. That you were so fond of, once. Your fellow volunteers, the chef and all the groundskeepers, down to your dentist. Even that charming blonde that works at the ice-cream parlor you frequent." Big or small, they were all a target for the Orange Tiger Association. "I don't think I need to go on, do I?"

That Nadine lady was probably on the list, right next to Chloe and Logan and Rafael. Elena, Mr. Drake, Cassie, and... Nodding meekly in understanding, Dells was nearly at her tipping point once more. "No, I get it. We all have targets on our backs right now. You, me, and everyone on this rock."

Like sandpaper and no gloves on the hottest day in July, it was a daunting thought, imaging all those lives on a single scale. _All waiting on me to tip it, one way or another_. In order to not have to think about that too, the girl focused on something else that he had said. "You've killed before?" Jian didn't have the air of a killer per say, but she could believe it with the kind of demons he kept.

"As have you." Tilting his head as if in whimsy, he gestured to the gun.

 **[No Solicitors]**

Bride-to-be getting the point to keep moving, she abruptly froze when they reached the clearing.

Blue now the dominate shade in the morning sky, the rose gold had been replaced by the color of runny tears and the deeper magenta had turned a watery bluebell. Streaks of ominous gray fingerprints lingered like the marks of a strong lover, domineering the parts of the heavens that weren't cut by the wings of early scavengers in hunt of their worms. Tucked behind a fortress of leftover clouds that warred over the right time to dissipate, the sun was more of a cooper disk than a gold one.

Faint light filling the overgrown spaces between the wooden soldiers, the rain-drenched leaves were finally beginning to dry out. Crisp sage canopy no longer sagging beneath the weight of a thousand glittering droplets, the dead russet carpet was regaining the ability to whistle in the mild breeze that was blowing through the grove. Originating from the sea, even among the corpses of berries ripe enough to explode at the lightest touch and withered oranges just barely clinging to the last vestiges of life, there was the vaguest hint of salt in the air.

Reports all indicating that the only daughter of Adler enjoyed spending her time outside, Jian could tell by the broken twinkle in her eye that the nature wasn't what had caught her attention. Knowing his betrothed as well as he did, the sharply dressed man was willing to bet his own money that she hadn't even noticed the hulking shape in the background. Donning a coat of pinstripes and a silk ascot of solid sea foam green, Ludo was a hard figure to ignore, and yet she seemed to be doing a fine enough job.

Merely knocked unconscious and left where he had fallen, Ludoviko had taken care to leave Drake where the girl could spot him. Unmarked and breathing, the old man was clearly going to be fine when he woke up from his nap, however that hadn't stopped her from finding an untapped reserve of will that had allowed her to rip free from the saddle. Not entirely made up of panic, the heiress threw her future husband to the side like last week's Vera Wang and ran to the other man's side.

It might have been romantic, if it weren't so utterly pathetic.

"Sam!" Relief washing over her features when she saw that his heart was still beating, the heiress curled up so that she could rest his head on her knees. Tender with her thief, when it came to her groom-to-be the woman had leered acid over her shoulder. No doubt feeling the reminder of what he could do, the young woman snapped her head back around to scream at his own man in proxy, "What did you do to him?!"

Look dirtier than any drink and voice packing more venom than any suit could, Jian could hardly blame Ludo for being cowed into answering. Then again, what with his letters the man was known to be on the sentimental side. "Nothing. I just caught him off his guard is all. Think he thought I was somebody else." From the lore of the brothers Drake, he had gotten lucky. Very lucky.

Acting as if they had not been interrupted by the scene at hand, the triad resumed, "Ideally this is all just a business arrangement." Like all marriages were, really, but this one could be fully transparent and without the emotional baggage of a real relationship.

No 'does this dress make me look fat' or yelling at him for planning a spur-of-the-moment 'boy's night'. All the thorny details could be ironed out, such as if his bride-to-be had certain tastes that could not be met in privacy, or alternative arrangements had to be made. _Well_ , he mused as he watched the girl fawning all over the adventurer as if she could somehow protect them both, _maybe not all her tastes_.

Daniella had spared Jian no courtesy once Drake was in her arms, her eyes saved solely for the thief. She did however know enough about etiquette to parrot back some kind of proof that she was at least listening. "Ideally."

Between himself and Ludo, it was almost painful how easy it would have been to kill them both in that moment. Sure, they could probably do the old man, but that wouldn't go over well with the girl; if there was anything that Jian had learned from the Mollies, it was that you never could predict how a woman might react. Especially one with a questionable family history that was... shall he say, smitten?

"We would only have to see each other for special occasions, such as family holidays and major gatherings." He was almost talking himself into believing that this was a good deal, until he remembered that there would be one potentially awkward stipulation that was demanded of the both of them. "I fear I would be remiss if I didn't tell you that at some point after our wedding, certain things might be required of us, as man and wife."

Oh, they would definitely be required, and with the old man, there was no knowing that the night of the marriage was going to be a private affair between man and wife. On paper, if it were happening to anyone else, Jian could see the logic in making sure that both parties were performing their duty to the contract.

Allowing that to sink in as he found his next point, Jian shook his head with a low sigh, as if he meant to relate to the young foal. "I know it may seem daunting to consider, but I would make it as painless as I could for you." If indeed he was right about the first night of the honeymoon, the triad wasn't entirely sure what all could be done for the girl, but there were a few ideas he had been kicking around.

Although, by that point, who was to say that she hadn't been sufficiently been broken in?

Her mouth had formed a hard little line, indicating to him that she didn't much care to delve into that branch of conversation just yet. Fair enough, with her current lover right there.

"If you don't want to think about that, then think of the family that we already do have." Realizing that it as the one area he had yet to try to exploit, Jian doubled down on the guilt of disobeying the wishes of kin, "Your grandfather could rest easy knowing that the family line will continue. My cousin and your mother can stop micromanaging our lives for a moment. The rest will be content enough."

 **[Daniella's Special Backstage Pass]**

'Content enough'... As comfortable as Jian had made that life sound, the pitch wasn't quite selling the heiress just yet. Although, it was making all of the sense that Sam had turned inside out and threw on its head. Marry Jian like her grandfather wanted, and basically all of this would go away. She would be treated like a queen, kept safer than any secret in the whole world, and it would bring her family honor. Honor that her mother had tainted long ago.

For all his crimes, Daniella couldn't bring herself to blame her father for this. Her mother on the other hand... Ambitious, calculating, and cruel, the woman was as beautiful as she was selfish, choosing to carve out a path that led to her own daughter having to pay for it.

 **[Jian's Flip Outweighs The Quip]**

Run out of valid arguments to make, there was only so much more left for him to say. Watching the pair with stoic eyes, Ludo seemed to have grasped this as well, giving his knuckles a mighty crack before making his exit. Parked just outside the front gates, the antiqued rental would no doubt require a minute to rumble to life - such was the price for getting such a cheap car. Oh well, better than causing a scene and arousing anyone's suspicions.

As alone as they were going to get, Jian looked at his bride-to-be with an unmistakable gravity in his hark hazel eyes. Honest about this above all else, he sincerely hoped that she could say the same when the time came. "We've been speaking about what could happen if you agree to your honorable grandfather's deal, but we have barely touched on what happens if you don't. Even now, I can tell you're thinking about it. Whatever you decide, just let me ask you one thing: what do _you_ fight for?"

Willing herself to not answer, the Adler girl was betrayed by a blue-gray storm blowing through the morning haze for a certain silhouette.

 **[Da Club Of Da Loonies]**

Mind pondering the options before her and trying to see where each road might lead (because the young woman was in such a great place to be making these huge life-altering decisions), she wished that she could press the pause button. Daniella Adler didn't have much of anything for all the money and clout that came with her name, but Dells... In short, there was one answer.

 _What do I fight for_? _What *do* I fight for_...? A good question, obviously there was a lot to be gained from the bargain (at least on paper, assuming that most of these things weren't lies), but what would she really be leaving behind? Daniella had nothing that she would miss, nothing that she could live without. But Dells? That girl couldn't really claim a thing, yet she was happy where she was.

But was that because of all the people she had met, or was it...? Loathe to think his name even now, pride and vanity had kept the heiress from crying out to her thief in his stolen armor. Then the nightmares were given flesh, and there had been no time to dwell on the sins of the past.

 _Either way I look at it, this is my mother's fault. Jian, grandfather, and the one path that would prove I did well by my ancestors. Sam._

Dani may have been of two minds about the situation regarding those most important to her, but she knew that if she stayed this course, she could buy that much more time. Time to heal from the scars, time to forgive and more importantly, forget. Time to...

Scarlet-eyed and snake-nosed, that little thing called reason intervened in the fantasy, demanding to know how any part of her could even consider moving forward when he was the reason why her father was dead in the first place. How she could stand to hold him as if nothing had happened. _Dad's destiny would have been the same, Sam or no Sam._

Anyways, the man clearly felt bad about it, right? And he cares... _Does he though?_

He must, a little. _Why, because I want him to? Newsflash, no one cares what I want - I'm just a means to an end for all of them. (_ Sometimes that little voice was just a little too snarky).

Jian's-

 _Jian is just being upfront about it_.

For now.

 _Fair enough, I'll give me that one_.

Rapidly deteriorating, the more that Daniella attempted to sort out the thoughts in her head, there was a counter-argument already lined up and waiting to go. As much as she wanted to keep going along with Sam the way that they were, the heiress wasn't prepared to just drop everything that came with finally learning the truth of that situation. Avery's Millions, Libertalia, call the quest whatever you wanted, she just wasn't there yet.

Confused to say the least, Dells couldn't answer in words.

 **[At Least Jian Will Dance With The One That Brought Him]**

Getting a good grasp on the extent of the relationship his bride-to-be had with that relic of the past if nothing else, Jian followed her line of sight. He had the power to end her misery right there by telling her exactly what was keeping her from him, but with the heiress at breaking point it was better to refrain. At this stage, the gang leader felt confident that she would come to see things his way.

He just had to play his cards right. "You don't have to say anything. It's a long weekend, and there's a party to attend. Go, enjoy yourself."

Jian might not be a master fisher in real life, but he understood the merits of telling her that she didn't have to make up her mind right away. Frustrated by her peers and shown an ingot of compassion from who she perceived to be her enemies, the pony was all but eating out of the palm of his hand.

Hesitating before he left, the man gave her shoulder a bracing squeeze before placing his gun back in its holster. "If not for me, then do yourself a favor and seriously think about who it is you leave this island with."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Meep. Between being sick (and still questioning if there's something off about a previous chapter), refining this chapter and then re-writing half of it to better reflect the characters and a more realistic turn of events, it's been a time. And you get a cookie if you find the ' _American Werewolf In Paris_ ' reference :)


	73. It Only Ends At Death (Cycles)

**\- Chapter Sixty-Seven -**

 **It Only Ends At Death (Cycles)**

Clock a sundial in the mint green grove, the shadows spun and slithered as time sped around the duo in the heart of it. Birds of common browns and frequent blacks and blues flew about and sang their jovial songs; bugs came, went, and died; toads and frogs and lizards and bees and centipedes were there too, rustling the bottom of the fertile floor. Rabbits and badgers abound, there was life everywhere you looked, however it was the hairless mammals that simultaneously took up the most room and made the smallest splash.

Obsessed with continuously touching her own face, it was like when you lost a tooth and couldn't keep your tongue from exploring the hole. No matter that you had never really paid much mind to your mouth before now, it was just... strange. Except instead of finding a gap that wasn't there before, it was the pain that kept you coming back for more. Half a distraction and half because something about it was just that alluring, the heiress brought her fingertips to her inflamed cheek once more.

 _Why does this feel so... Good?_ Unable to stop or maybe just super unwilling, the young woman lingered over the injured spot on her face before it became too much to bear. None of her other injuries had felt like this, but then again, she hadn't needed to find a way to kill the time.

Reprieve short-lived, it wasn't long before her eyes wandered again.

Created as carelessly as an old wine stain, the man-made mark hovering just above an uneven field of scruff was beginning to fade; at the same time, her own badge of honor was glowing new and bright. On the same side even, there was something poetic about their bruises. Not anything earth-shattering that would be remembered in five years, but there was something.

Lips parted enough to see the tiniest bit of tooth, the heiress could feel her fingers twitch at the lowbrow idea that had crawled from the top of the gutter. Starting from one corner and caressing the slight curve of his lower lip, as the sapphires drank their fill, she wondered something she probably shouldn't have. Rather, two somethings, with the more innocent being the question of how many people had gotten to kiss those lips. More than capable, they were made for cracking jokes and passing along lost oral history; but most importantly, she thought that they were made for kissing.

 _I hate that I can barely even remember what they felt like_. Recognizing that it was her own fault for displaying such poor judgement, the heiress wished that she could at least have one memory of what it was like. _I could do it now, and no one would ever have to know_... Although knowing her luck, that wouldn't be true at all.

 _Sam, why do I..._?

Picturesque as the final frames of a barber and his wife, the thief and the heiress were breathing statues of painted marble, frozen in time. Worn topaz no less blue than the day it had been mined, the semi-precious gemstones were fixated upon the sleeper, his masculine form tossing every now and again to regain the consciousness that had been taken. _Ludo... viko, was it? He was just as strong as he looked_. Shuttering the winter storm, the young woman wished that she could be stronger.

 _Why do I...?_

Embrace deeply personal, even though some of her fear had found a way out through the corners of her eyes, as she held him in her arms it was plain to see that the feminine figure was terrified to let go. More latch than lace, Dells had every reason to be scared; if terror were the sea, the past would be the conjured manacles keeping her from swimming ashore, Jian the shark that had caught the scent of blood in the water.

Doomed to replay the events over and over inside her mind while she waited, one thing was becoming inescapably clear to the heiress.

Petrified at the thought of what would happen if Angel and Ashley were to get their hands on her a second time, when the young woman saw Sam laying there, an even worse fear had come over her. It griped her heart like a vice, refusing to ever let go. Summed up best in one question, what if that had been the last time she ever saw him again? Events could play out however they might, but at least if they both came out of this thing alive there was the slim chance that they might somehow come back to one another. Death was kinda final.

Left to ponder such gems as how she could never want to look at him ever again and yet couldn't imagine a world without him in it, Dells was more than overwhelmed at the thought of somehow losing the one anchor she had left. Frankly, she was more concerned about when her thief might wake up more than if Jian came back with reinforcements. Hell, she was more than terrified that everything from before could come bubbling back up to the surface, making it impossible to keep holding him like this. If there was something to fear, odds were that it was nothing in relation to how scared she was when it came to Sam.

Yesterday, when two psychos with drills and knives were her biggest problem, she might have welcomed that. But in the present? Even though the heiress knew better, all she could think about was telling him that she was scared of never seeing him again.

Bold in the private space of her mind, she could kiss the thief a thousand times and do more for him than swat away curious insects. Brave enough to trace the shape of his mouth, Daniella could see herself bending over his forehead and planting a light peck over each line. She could follow every curve, from the hard set of his nose to the scratchy stubble on his chin, all the way around to the... the dying shiner she'd given him.

Pads gliding over the top of her skin to meet more texture than resistance, her fingertips knocked away yet another clump of dried mud. Brushing the fallen remains from where it scattered over Sam, the heiress lingered for only a moment before gingerly tending to a silver-capped auburn tuft that fallen into his face. At least, she pretended that it had, giving in to that smallest little part that was willing to do anything to be close to the man. To touch him tenderly and show that she cared too.

If she could, she would have fallen straight into his arms and just stayed there for the rest of forever.

 _What have you done to me, Sam?_ Echoing the same sentiment as when she had broken at the revelation of her father's final days, the heiress would have traded anything in that moment to... to... have some other life? Feel even half of what she felt now? Gods, she knew that things must have been bad if she were willing to face her mother right about now.

Thankfully for all involved, the historian woke up before he could be counted as another piece of history.

Squinting against the sun beating down on the baked soil, in the filtered light of the jade ceiling the first thing that greeted him were the sweater twins. Hovering right over the top of his head and confined to a baggy yellow thing perfect for yoga, it was not the worst way he'd ever woken up. Oh, right, the girl attached to them was there too, but the last thing the guy remembered was how upset she had been with him, so, yeah...

Attempting to sit up against the weight of at least four heiresses, it was Sam's turn to be the woozy one. Guided back into the covered comfort of her lap, as he eased himself into a more comfortable position, the man figured that the girl could survive another five-ten minutes stuck like this. Odds were she was responsible for this too.

Head throbbing like hell from the surprise wallop, the grizzled brunette wonder what had happened out loud. "What I miss?"

Biting her lip, Daniella hadn't really planned on what she would tell Sam about what had transpired. It wasn't as if Jian had done the classic villain thing and threaten that she not tell anyone about their conversation while twirling his mustache, but what good would it do? The triad leader was there on the island too, somewhere, but it seemed unlikely that they would see him again... At least, not until it was time to go...

 _"If not for me, then do yourself a favor and seriously think about who it is you leave this island with."_ _Jian's words reverberated from both sides of her skull_.

"Um..." Uncertainty all she had in that moment, Daniella flinched from the pain when Sam's thumb brushed along the side of her cheek.

Light as he was with her, there was no hiding the wince caught in his palm; tender as the skin was, it was the context that hurt worse. Touching the breakable young woman as if she were made of something more fragile than the finest china, he had it backwards - it was her insides that were the most screwed up.

 _Don't look at me like that_ , her lips were curved around the first letter and she could almost taste the reproach, and yet Dells couldn't bring herself to do more than think them. _Don't let me believe that you care_ , she was so close to going back to that place where she had to second-guess his motives, so dangerously close.

Fear and anger and that damn pink emotion so often associated with hearts and dirty sheets, there was so much swirling through her head that it was impossible to concentrate on any one feeling. Logic and sense would have been screaming at her to back away then, but neither of the two were there to tell her better. Even grief was overshadowed by these recent occurrences.

Finding the irony without any assistance, just as the thief was getting cozy on his burrowed headrest, for whatever reason he spared a quick glance at young woman. Promising himself that it was merely to weigh where they currently stood, the last thing Sam had expected to see was the bright pink mark glowing like a beacon. Drawn straight to it, he had to feel it for himself, rubbing off more of the mud from her pretty little mug.

Questioning where precisely all that dirt had come from, the bigger issue at hand was the angry sigil burning up beneath. While others might have thought to approach the subject with more tact, Sam cut to the chase, exclaiming, "Jesus, Dells, your face!"

 _So much for pretty_ , Sarcastic Sally snorted, finding it rich that he would go there of all places. Brushing that aside to the trash icon in her mind, the heiress grinned as if getting pistol whipped were no big deal. "Oh, this? Just something else that we have in common."

Not overly amused by her act of nonchalance - okay, maybe a little, as it was something he would have said in the same position - Sam knew that the mark would heal, but in the meantime he was going to get a lot of funny looks. More than he usually did. "I think we have enough in common."

Had anything about this situation been remotely near the proximity of normal, the young lady would have made some scathing retort about her parents not counting. Too busy dying inside, there were bigger fish to fry. Like trying to explain the origin of this bold new look. "Do we? I guess."

If that had had been his little brother attempting to hedge away from the truth like that, that would have earned a charlie horse. Thankfully, the heiress was in no way related, so in celebration of that fact the veteran explorer simply rolled his eyes instead. Had things been on less shaky ground between them, he might have contemplated a more severe punishment. A pinch of the uninjured cheek, a flick to the side of the head, something along those lines. As it stood, probably a bad idea to prod a magnet for bandages...

Dells was a soft thing, and he had to treat her as such.

Boston accent still a strange and alluring thing to the young woman, he had to go and make it worse by cupping the source of so much of the hurt. Holding his position, Sam didn't so much as skip a beat when she tore her eyes away. "Hey, it's me you're talkin' to, remember?"

Cue that cheeky grin of his.

"So you gonna tell me what happened, or am I gonna have to get Chloe to come in and spank you? Scratch that, Chloe would enjoy it too much..." Tip-toeing a line so thin it might as well be invisible, the man thought up a better proxy to teach the girl a lesson. "Elena. You do not want to get on her bad side, believe me."

Tempting as all of that talk about spanking sounded, the problem was that Daniella did believe Sam, even after everything that he had come clean about. "Something tells me that my fiancé might be worse."

 _Oops_.

Never one to remember names when it didn't benefit him, it was less apathy and more blinding rage that condensed the sleazy bastard's name, "Ryan did that to ya?" Not normally one to throw stones at glass houses, it had been bad enough that the triad prick had wanted to marry the girl; armed with this new information, Sam was ready to end the pimple on the warthog's ass. "I'm gonna kill him-!"

Consumed once more by the thought of losing Sam before it was time, Dells whimpered and held him as if he were her long-lost security blanket. As a woman grown, she was obviously too old to believe that a little strip of fabric could keep the boogeyman at bay, but as a kid dancing through a minefield, it was perfectly acceptable to cower.

Unlikely to complain about a perfectly good pair of breasts getting all up in his business, the historian allowed the hug to go for a number of minutes, possibly a number of minutes too long. But hey, if the girl was gonna just grab him out of nowhere like that, who was he to gripe? Although, something nagged at the back of the man's head, whispering incessantly that something wasn't right. For one thing, this wasn't just your run-of-the-mill 'glad to see you' kind of hugs (but getting one of those might have been nice). For another, for how bent out of shape Dells had gotten the last time they spoke, she must have had a good reason to just abandon her grieving process so quickly.

More pieces falling into place as Sam thought about it, if that triad prick was the one that had laid hands on her, then it stood to reason that it was either the man himself or one of his goons that had gotten the drop on him. Which meant that there was an Orange Tiger there on the island. Which meant that there was danger-

As if reading his mind, the heiress shook her head, causing a rain of dirt to cascade from the silver sun. "Not Ryan, Ruan Jian. And it's fine, I don't think he's going to hurt anyone." If he had wanted to, Jian could have harmed them both before he left, but he didn't. It would appear that he really did only wish to discuss the matter of their prospective marriage. "He only had you knocked out so we could talk. If he truly had wanted it, he could have..."

Throat constricting at the unthinkable, she had been trying to say that he could have gone after Sam (or had his man Ludo do it), but that was beyond her. All of this was over her head, and she was about ready to burst open at the seams.

Pupils contracting from an abundance of anxiety, anyone could tell that the girl was deep fried. Battle one as old as time itself, the old man ignored the pounding drum that was his own head in favor of another's pain, forcing himself into a slightly slouched sitting position. Her panic attacks could start any minute now - honestly it was a small miracle that she had held together this long - however he had found one way to help.

Bringing the young woman into his arms, her trembling frame fell into his chest so they were two separate halves of a whole. Fingers clasping across her back to reduce the trembling fits, Sam knew that she needed this. He needed this.

Clinging to all that was wrong with her world while the rest of her head tried to sort out everything else was rather taxing. Woods spinning from more than surpassing her known limit, the heiress couldn't trust herself to just keep sitting there without giving out completely. _Without falling right back into his arms_.

 _Oh wait_...

 **[Back In The Semi-Real World]**

Hotel looming over the horizon like a sinner outside church the day before the Rapture, it was a welcome sight after row upon row of buildings that looked to be made of either sand or metal. The coffee shop was also great to see, up until pale eyes had spotted the closed sign denying all costumers a steaming caffeinated beverage. Legitimately crushed, the heiress had really been looking forward to soothing some of her problems in a tall caramel...

 _Maybe next time_ , she lamented with a cross look at her water bottle, as if it were somehow to blame.

 _Better than blame me for that too_ , he thought to himself, pausing behind the woman long enough to agree that some kind of desert would be the perfect distraction.

Too close, he caught a full whiff of the hotel's shampoo; bombarded by generic lavender, they might have been back in the shower. Hair coiled up in a floral wreath at the top of her head, the sudsy lather trailed down the back of her neck before dividing off, his eyes predominately glued to the path between her shoulders. Hand around her waist, Sam remembered just holding the young woman close as the water washed over them.

"You know, a shower could be nice." Rolling his shoulder to give the impression that his joints were the only thing that had gotten stiff, the adventurer saw no problem in making the suggestion.

Daniella merely nodded, throwing one final looking of longing over her shoulder at what she couldn't have.

It was early enough in the morning that they could both squeeze in a quick shower, however it was debatable who could use the hot water more. For all the moves he made in his head, Sam's neck and back really were sore after spending all that time on the ground, and Dells had gone through hell and hand-basket case. Temptation on a Monday, taking a shower together was a vividly-imagined possibility that had crossed both of their minds yet had gone unspoken.

Truth be, there was a metric ton of things that had gone unsaid by the pair. Ask either one why that might have been, and they would both probably say that after departing from the murder-park, there hadn't really been all that much to say.

Outside of the obvious. Apology maybe not the exact word he would use per say, Sam figured that he should probably try to say something to the young woman about what had happened. And Dells... now that she had cried so much of her frustration out and things were back to a more familiar place, it was simpler to just shove it under the rug. Eye contact was overrated anyways, and now that she wasn't speaking to her companion, there was more opportunity for her to engage with the others. Or just shy away behind either Chloe or Elena. Whomever she happened upon first.

Yep, things were definitely getting back the kind of healthy that worked.

Then they got up to their room, where the very first object to greet them was their wreck of a bed. And the minibar. Dells had reached that point where she had sworn off drinking again (until she didn't), and Sam figured that all the good stuff was already gone. Too late for the late-shift when they had left, the empty plate and glass of ginger ale were still on the nightstand; as if they weren't enough of a reminder, her towel was still drying in a ball on the mattress, the sheets kicked all over.

Pretending like he hadn't just been watching her reaction to being back, Sam's first impulse was to throw himself on the bed. Even when it wasn't entirely her fault, the girl was just too much for his poor body. Realizing how close that sounded to defeatist talk, the grizzled brunette scratched at the stubble on his chin. "What are the odds of you giving me a massage?"

"Not good." More caught off guard by the randomness of the request than flat-out refusing it, the heiress arched her brow in his general direction. _Of course he was already on the bed_. "What about the shower?"

Jokingly feigning as if he'd forgotten, the thief started his process with his boots, watching from the corner of his eye as she shrugged out of her coat. When he moved on to remove his own jacket, Sam noted that she was fiddling with her bra straps, going back and forth over if she should take off the tank top first or not.

"That an offer?" Hopeful that it was, he perked up enough to wear that coy smirk that had won over many a partner.

Scandalized like a good girl should be, it was clear that she definitely was not amused that he would joke like that when things were so twisted between them. "No!"

"Spoilsport." Basically an absolute no-go that she wouldn't budge on, he ripped off his shirt and threw it at her feet. Pouting, the petulant thief would have tugged at any available part of the young woman that he could reach until she relented to at least one of his soft demands. But no, Dells had to be standing just inside the door, her hand mere inches from the knob as if she meant to steal away when he wasn't looking. "Come on, I do you favors all the time!"

While that may have been true - technically speaking - the heiress pointed at the bathroom with its open door. "Well, if you take the first shower, the hot water should do the trick."

"I'm too sore to get off the bed." Not entirely bullshit, the springs, coils, and synthetic feathers were a hefty improvement over the fresh mud. Jury was still out on whether or not he preferred a regular pillow or curling up on her cotton candy thighs.

Sighing because his charm was getting the better of her all over again, the young woman stopped snapping herself long enough to roll her eyes at his dramatics. Shirt coming off awfully quick for someone that could barely move, if it weren't for how long they had been stargazing, the heiress would have had a hard time swallowing any of his claims. Slipping out of her own shoes before treading over the relatively clean top and deeper into the room, the faux blonde hesitated between the heart and the head... er, bed and shower.

Doubtful that anyone would win the war, the heiress knew that if there was one thing that could beat pure charisma, it was logic. "If I give you a massage, that cuts into both our showers."

"Well, we could always-"

"No." That was too dangerous, and the ice was thin enough where they were standing. Hell, the water was up to her ankles already, who was she trying to kid?

"Hey!" Indignation a skill as well as a second language, the man scoffed at her rude assumption. "I was just gonna say be late." He wasn't, but she didn't have to go and actively cut him off like that. What was she, raised in a barn by a pack of wild wolves? _Right, worse_.

Closer to the bed now but still too far to touch, the heiress snorted, "Yeah, let's pretend I buy that for a single minute. Please." Shaking her head so that there was more work for the poor maid, the girl glanced over her shoulder at the shower that was slipping further and further away. Honestly she didn't even care who had the first one, she just wanted to get clean. "You don't even know if I'm any good with my hands."

Maybe not, but he knew she was better than decent with her mouth.

Brought up by an ill-tempered great white mounted with a laser, due to that fact that Bai worked too hard to be pampered, there was a slim chance that the daughter might not have lived such a glamorous life that there was an on-staff massage therapist. Sure, he ceded that it was possible, but he refused to believe that the heiress had never gotten a professional massage in her luxurious life on the outside. Daniella could figure it out.

Picking up that the young woman was on the verge of relenting to that much, if she was so skeptical, he offered a fair form of reimbursement. "Then you can give me first crack at the hot water."

"You're impossible." Dells said that, but he could see the smile peeking through the obscene layer of dirt that was still falling off her.

"You love it." Doing more than leaving it at a mischievous wink, the one-time magician's assistant figured screw it, the heiress was too fun to mess with.

Blushing what looked to be a healthy shade of rosemary beneath the earthy tacking, Dells grumbled something at him under her breath. Pretty sure he had a good idea what it was, he let the matter drop when she agreed to his deal. "Shows what you know... Fine, I'll do it. But only because you do so many little things for me!"

Grinning ear-to-ear like an infamously green-haired clown prince, this was a victory. Would have been an even bigger victory if he had been able to talk her into taking that shower together, but he knew better than to press his luck. All things considered, he was just fortunate that she hadn't taken things the wrong way and thrown the rest of the room at his head when he first opened his mouth.

Ushered into position on his stomach with his head resting on his arms for support, Sam was pleasantly surprised when he felt a familiar weight pinning him down to the bed.

About to open his mouth on the matter, the thief felt hot breath tickling the shell of his ear when she leaned over, a hand falling inches in front of his face in a way that was meant to be menacing. "Don't misunderstand. It's just easier to do things this way than have to run round both sides of the bed."

Pretty sure that the professionals did that anyways, he smirked up at the young woman, "If you wanted to climb on top of me, you could have just asked."

Lips pursing, the heiress was going to retort that real massage therapists had special beds that they used (and certificates, usually), him saying it like that stole the argument away. Replacing cold, hard fact with mental images of how many ways this could go wrong, Dells squeezed her thighs into his sides to express her opinion on the subject. "It's not too late for me to call this whole thing off, you know."

"I'll behave," making a promise that he clearly had little intention of keeping, that smirk only grew wickeder, "if you do."

Contemplating being cruel and leaving him in a compromising position while she skipped off into the happy land of steamy showers, the heiress refrained. Far from altruistic, she didn't trust herself to start down that path and not finish it... That missing tooth all over again, the pangs of an addict crept along her veins, willing her to remember just how good it would feel to submit. Submit to baser instincts, submit to that warmth in her core just waiting to be sparked to life... So she began the massage instead, focusing her efforts on the man's neck and shoulders.

Kneading the muscle down to the tissue, Sam had been carrying more tension than she had realized, although that made sense. Regardless of whatever had been between them these past couple of weeks, he was technically on the job, and with that had come an insurmountable amount of stress she could imagine. Plus with everything that Logan had brought forward... She admired Sam's strength, that he was moving forward every day and not collapsing into a puddle.

 _You really are incredible, Sam Drake_.

Drinking in the intoxicating drug that was hero worship, as her hands continued to ease away the little kinks that had been building up inside, the heiress got a little... distracted... by one of his tattoos. Longing to trace the rough line work with her tongue, Dells accidentally - "accidentally" - dug her nail into his back as she raked her fingers across the expanse.

"Whadda think you're doing back there?" Hurt the last word to come to mind, Sam knew exactly what he wanted her answer to be. Dreaming of reliving the magic that had happened in the confines of a tiled box (without the puke would be nice), the man was relieved that he was the one face-down on the bottom for a change. You know, unless she changed her mind. In which case he was so ready it was starting to hurt.

"Sorry..." Words softly spoken as if she didn't even trust her own voice, Daniella couldn't get it out of her head that they were so close. Without thinking, she pressed her lips down into the skin to kiss the scratch better.

Okay, so that was better than what he had been hoping for. Not entirely thrilled about the prospect of how long it was going to take to come back around to this place - if indeed they ever could find their way back - the ex-con was more than happy to oblige the princess. Snatching up the offending extremity, he brought each digit to his lips, slowly to let her drown in the shock waves.

Closing her eyes to savor the ten sparks that had lit her blood on fire, when Dells opened them again it was to find Sam facing her. Curious to know how he had pulled that one off, the girl melted a little more when he ran his own hand up the length of her arm.

Taking it slow, he gradually brought his hands up her sides, lips and tongue distracting her from realizing that he had been taking off her shirt as they went. Silvia the only thing connecting them when they pulled apart for oxygen, Sam ripped it over her head and tossed the dirty thing on the floor. Over the ink and around his side, her own paws had been roaming, discovering the boundary at his waist. Catching her hand and bring it up over her head, he continued working his magic and rolled the pair over so that she was on the bottom.

Virtually at his mercy, the young woman arched her back until their bodies melded into one single entity, divided only by what remained of their clothes. Sweet torture as the frantic swaying of her pelvis teased the bound length, it was painfully evident how badly he wanted her when their hips began grinding together in delicious friction. Ravenous to taste more of the man, the further they went the more she thought about the grove, and all of the questions that had popped into her head.

 _What if this was the last time they ever saw each other?_ Even if nothing else came off, just so long as they kept going the way that they were, she could die a happy woman.

 _How many other people had gotten to kiss those lips?_ Driven by the wild throes of jealousy, the heiress wanted to be better than all of them and show Sam something he had never seen before. _But how can I do that when I am everything he's seen and done before?_

Insecurity the least of it, the further he pushed her along to the peaks of bliss, the more that her mind wandered back around to her parents. Tongue twisting intricate circles around his own in a desperate bid to purge the interlopers from her mind, she realized with dismay that it only made them cling on that much harder.

Looking down at the pretty little flower wilting away before his eyes, Sam saw a woman beneath the dirt, a woman that might have resembled someone he had once known but had long ago forgotten. Battered and bruised, he couldn't get enough of her; call it what you would, but he wanted to discover every face she could make, every sound he could coax out and experience every shape she could contort herself into. He wanted her, and once wasn't enough.

Returning the embrace without really appreciating what it meant to her, the thief kept her fist balled up over her head as he moved away from her lips to explore every other inch that had so far gone neglected. It wouldn't happen today, but he knew that he he would taste every last part of her.

Getting so low as her jaw, he paused when he felt her pull her neck the other way. Obviously trying to get away from the heat that was simmering in both of their bodies, Dells could barely get the words out, "No, Sam."

Breaking her heart (as well as other parts) to do it, the heiress had to get him to stop, because she couldn't stop thinking about her parents. Normally it might have just been disapproval from her father's shade and spite for her mother, but this wasn't a normal situation. Granted, with her level of experience there literally was no bar for what was considered 'normal', but she doubted that it was right to picture your partner tangled up with your parents.

"You can have that shower. I..." Still seeing some phantom picture show of the man wrapped around her father while her mother hovered just within the limits of the frame, the young woman shook her head, trying to rid herself of the ghosts. Was it odd that she could so vividly see something that she had no idea if it had happened or not? Betting that it was, her body wanted nothing more than to stay in that bed, but her mind was kind enough to remind her that more had come out of her father's relationship with the thief than just rumpled bedding. "I gotta get out of here."

Pushed away quite literally, by the time his brain could process that she had gone away, the heiress had scrambled out of the bed, darting from the room before he could even begin to comprehend what had transpired. Holding the empty air where she had been, his lips were still puckered. "What just happened?"

Acutely aware of what she was doing, Daniella slowed down long enough to grab her shirt off the floor. It was just as dirty as she was, but it was still better than walking around in her bra.

Replaying the scene back in her mind as she sought out any room other than her mother's, the heiress wondered if he realized that she had hesitated to leave. Pausing once to give him the chance to say or do anything that might change her mind and make her stay, more than anything else she wished that he had stopped her. She needed to feel him inside of her, to hold her so that the demons couldn't win. _No_ , a different voice chimed in, _you did the right thing_.

 _Did I_? Doubtful beginning to feel like her other default setting these days, as the heiress hurried out of the room and pulled on her top, she set out to find the one other person in the building she felt comfortable with. Vaguely recalling where the woman's room was, the girl started knocking on doors. Right off the bat she got some random stranger that she didn't know, so she apologized and scuttled on to the next one.

Hardly holding her breath that the outcome would be any better this time around, at least the person to answer the door was someone that she had actually met before. "Rafael? Hey-"

Cutting the girl off before she could come begging him to rescue her from her relic, the group medic kept his door shut so you couldn't even see all of his face. "Nope. Sorry Princessa, today's no good for me. If you wanna play hide and seek, go try someone else's room."

Holding her hand out so that he couldn't slam the door in her face, Daniella vigorously shook out her head in a cloud of dust. "Wait, do you know which room is Chloe's? I was actually looking for her."

Charmed to hear that this visit was the bastard product of a mistake, the man peered over his shoulder before answering in his usually snarky way. More distant than he regularly was, the girl might have thought more of it if she weren't on the lam. Thanking him for the help, he had closed the door before she could finish expressing her gratitude. Shrugging it off, the heiress headed in the right direction.

Outside the allegedly correct room, Dells glanced around before knocking on the wooden portal, hoping that just maybe Sam would chase after her this time. But there was no sign of him anywhere to be found, so it was with a heavy sigh she knocked on the door. When the door opened to reveal the dark haired beauty, the heiress yielded to impulse once more, hugging the pickpocket the instant she verified that it was indeed her.

"Hello to you too." Mildly surprised to be greeted in such a fashion, Chloe was still in a silky negligee of deep plum. Shower running in the background, Nadine was just finishing up her morning routine. Onyx eyes taking in the backwards yoga top and the grubby little paycheck beneath the mountain of dirt as she returned the clingy need for solace, the woman cocked her head at the heiress, "Bit early to be burying anyone, isn't it?" Smile kind, she welcomed the younger female into the room, "Not that I can blame you. Between us, I can't even begin to count the number of times I thought about killing his brother when we were together."

"No, I..." _Was just threatened by my enemy, given an ultimatum, and then tried to fuck the brains out of the guy that killed my father._ That sounded about right, but it would have been simpler to just agree that she had been burying a body in an unmarked grave. Searching for a less shady explanation, or even a way to deny that she had been caught in any illegal activity, the heiress could have smashed her face into her palm. Of course it was just a joke. Chloe tended to do that. "Right. No, I just fell into a hole."

"This hole have a name?" Chloe's smirk was so cat-like, sometimes the heiress expected to see ears and a tail. "Because somehow I don't see Sam taking you anywhere you might might get hurt."

Dells snorted, "Well that rules out just about everywhere then."

Serious for once, the older woman shook out her head, the silver streak in her hair catching like starlight. "I mean it." Observant, the woman had been a round the block before, and in all the years she had known them, the Drake brothers both had a certain way they dealt with the quote unquote 'fairer sex', "Sam's different with you. Extra careful-"

"Like I'm made out of glass." Daniella finished the locksmith's sentence for her, "Maybe someday I should apologize to him for making the job so difficult."

Deceptively quiet on her feet, Nadine had exited the shower and was standing there in nothing but a towel with a scowl on her face. Glaring at Frazer as if she had invited the girl, the former mercenary wasn't about to put on the kid gloves before she put on pants. "Ugh, you're thicker than Rafe! She's not talking about the job, she's saying that Drake cares about you."

Following events happening concurrently, Chloe's words fell on deaf ears, "She's right. If he didn't..." It was at that point that she realized that the youngest was too busy collecting herself to hear, so as the wisest and most lovely, Frazer tucked her advice away for later. Honestly though, she found it rather perplexing that the heiress would doubt how invested Sam was - if the girl was indeed just a job, he wouldn't have stayed there by her side after the whole pool thing. Ah, well, sometimes you just need to see these things for yourself.

Startled by Nadine's sudden arrival, the heiress spun around to face the second woman, "Gah, warn a person! Jeez!" Clutching her chest to calm her heart, she took the time to really look at Nadine. Actually really pretty beneath all the muscle and various scars, it was the curly hair that rang a bell in the back of her head. Was this really that scary lady?

"Welcome to the club." Chloe had once offered to go halfsies on making coats, but like the urban legends, the mercenary-turned-explorer had appeared out of nowhere to give her a heart attack. "Survival is apparently good enough."

Golden almost for how light of a hazel they were, Nadine rolled her eyes at her partner, "Why would I pay to have a jacket made for something so stupid?"

Chloe shot back, "Says the woman that collects stuffed dolls."

Coming under heat more than once for her collection of Beanie Babies, the more fit of the two had made the argument that it was a legitimate pastime more times than she cared to count. It was a cutthroat hobby, and the adorable little animals lining her shelves were worth a pretty penny on the right market. Chloe just wasn't listening when she made her case, but that was her loss (and less competition for the really rare ones).

"Dolls, really?" If this was indeed the same friend of her father that had once been so prominent in the picture that she had seen the woman more than her own flesh and blood, the girl remembered a night when it was just the two of them. Everyone else was too busy for the little tyke, but the woman had made time to watch a movie and play dolls. "Any chance one of them was missing an arm?"

Make believing that the broken toy was the victim of a shark attack, the pair had stayed up until dinner watching ' _The Little Mermaid_ ' for like the fourth time and playing pirate princess. One of her dearest memories that had had nothing whatsoever to do with her father, the heiress was aghast that she had forgotten that night until this moment.

Annoyed at Knot at the time for being unable to watch the girl like was routine, in the end Nadine had ultimately been grateful to the child for the rare night of joy. "Ariel saved her at the last minute."

Genuinely smiling, it wasn't worth digging any deeper into the other pieces of that night, but her brain did it anyways. Her mother was out of the country and her father was hard at work for the night with his other work partner... _Sam_. It had to have been Sam, yet it felt surreal to think that he had ever been a part of her life before now.

"Looks like we found a way to come back to each other." Glassy almost, the invaluable vase from a lost dynasty looked at the dirt covering the cracked handle. "Like magnets."

"Or destiny?" Seeing where this was going, Chloe was kind enough to add her two cents.


	74. Can I Help You With Something?

**\- Chapter Sixty-Eight -**

 **Can I Help You With Something?**

 **[Warning: explicit content]**

Destiny? Perhaps it was the recent run of bad cards or maybe it could be attributed to age, however Daniella wasn't entirely sold on that one just yet. Besides, even if she could give some credit to the notion that fate was preordained for every last man, woman, and child, who in the world would think to set her on this path? Which cruel god or twisted mind? Not even sure she believed in some single entity let alone fate, there wasn't nearly enough evidence to subscribe to such a silly thing.

Comparing it all to her private library, it was almost like a romance novel (you know, those things she didn't have). Easy to get swept away in the heat of the moment, but long-term, not something to just throw around carelessly. To say that one believed in fate was a rather big commitment, wasn't it?

 _Wasn't believing in anything_?

Closing her eyes against the lukewarm pins, she gave a little more thought to what Chloe was trying to get at. It was never very cute to begin with, the way the older woman would push them together in the safe house. _Where Sam had spent almost all his time at her bedside while she had recovered_...

He did that a lot it seemed, even though there were so many times he could have stretched his legs or left it to someone else if he thought her health was so critical. Maybe it was a little more than just making sure that the moving guys didn't break the box clearly marked as 'fragile', but that hardly meant that he truly cared.

The Sword of Damocles was always hanging over her head.

Scrubbing so vigorously that the blonde was in danger of washing out, the heiress watched the dirt collect at her feet before swirling down the drain in lieu of any platinum. Hiding in every last nook and cranny, if there was ever a time to have someone else there to wash her back, this would have been it.

"Stupid..." Muttering under her breath at the shampoo bottle, the heiress wasn't entirely sure if she was calling anyone in particular out, or was merely bemoaning the situation. Really, she probably should have been aiming the accusation inwards, as if anyone was an idiot, it was her. _What was I thinking, agreeing to something like that?_!

 _What where you thinking, stopping something like that?_!

Incredulous to say the least, the wicked half of the young woman that was so quick to do the bad things was less than pleased that she had cut things short. Entire mouth opened for thorough exploration, the frenzy in which they had kissed had added something to her blood, darker than spite or curiosity, and so much sweeter than any liquor could be. Body knowing precisely what she needed, if she had been able to hold out just a little bit longer...

Maybe he couldn't make her forget forever, but the way they were going, Sam could have made her forget long enough. Could have made her feel better than just alright... Mind running rampant with what might have been, the young woman hadn't immediately realized where her hands had traveled...

Ghosting across the flat surface of her belly, in the back of her mind it wasn't her hand that was skimming over the skin. Eager to just get to the good stuff, there was very little searching the land before the treasure was located. Raw, a single digit slid over the peak of the pink mound, gliding back and forth until the friction became too much. Then that damn sexy smirk loomed out of nowhere, widening as he pushed her further than her body could take.

 _No... What the fuck am I doing_?! Eyes snapping open, the heiress could scarcely believe how low she had fallen; never in her wildest dreams would she have thought herself the type to do this in some else's bathroom. _Chloe and Nadine are right outside! I need to... to_...

 _Relax, baby girl_ , Dells felt a shiver run down her spine when she heard that voice, _I got this_.

Hallucinating his lips on the back of her neck and his free hand holding her firm against him, she could practically feel the shape of his cock grinding against her ass. Teasing, taunting, tormenting, the pretend sensation escalating with each semi-circle her finger danced. Slapping the fleshy curve as if giving him a show, if the proper lady inside hadn't been tied up by frustration, she would have been quite aghast.

Leaning forward with her palm curled against the tile, as she sped up her ministrations, Daniella whimpered out louder than she'd meant to... Whimpered out a certain name to be more precise.

 _Dammit, Sam_. Fairly sure that someone else could have prevented that little slip up, she wondered if muffling all that noise really was possible. Bringing her hands up to her throat for all of three seconds, the heiress was more interested in the reality where he had been there to smother the moan with his lips, wrapping the cry with a deep kiss before swallowing the honey from her swollen lips.

If she hadn't been alone... If someone had been there with her, Dells wouldn't have needed to just imagine them down on their knees. Imagine him, her fingers threading through those grizzled auburn locks...

Meanwhile, as Nadine tracked down the outfit she had expressly laid out the previous night, Chloe was dicking around on her phone. Scrolling through a backlog of old messages that had built up, the woman had only thought to take the final plunge after sacrificing her own shower so that the scuzzy pauper could get cleaned up and become the princess they all knew her to be.

During the downtime, there was a message from a certain career criminal. Old school in a lot of ways, the elder Drake brother would usually only text if there was reason to do so, so the sudden and unexpected call really was neither that sudden nor that unexpected. It worked out though - they didn't need him wondering where his little lady had disappeared to, and besides, there was a decent chance that he didn't know Elena's itinerary for the day.

Gone out to the professional pickpocket before anyone else, the thief knew whom the heiress was most likely to turn to. Well, second most likely. Point was, it was just a smart move to cover all his bases. "Chloe, she there with yous guys?"

Nadine rolled her eyes as she dipped one toe into the stripped marine opening of her suit. Using her partner's shoulder for support as she climbed into the other, she made absolutely certain to speak loudly and stand just behind Chloe for maximum effect. Sure, it was redundant as the call as already flipped over to speaker, but she wanted to make her point, "See Drake's as polite as usual."

"Hello Nadine." Humoring the woman easier than picking a fight (although he was always down to have that fight after school), Sam figured from their laid-back reception that they were with the girl. Although seeing as Chloe had lost her once already, he would like to verify that she was still over there. "One of you care to put Dells on the phone?"

"Can't." Can't, won't, same birds of a different color, really.

Wrong words to hear when the heiress had already pulled more than one vanishing act today, the man immediately dropped what he was doing. Left to the devices of the imagination, it sounded like something heavy with a glass bottom had been slammed down on a hard surface. "Whattya mean you can't?! She's still there, isn't she?"

Devil incarnate sometimes, the responding shrug was damn-near audible on the other end of the line, "Last I checked she was." True, Chloe could have just told Sam that Daniella was fine, safe and taking a shower to cool off, but where in the world was the fun that?

And there was more to it than her getting her jollies (really that bit was just a bonus). Muck covering the worst of it, both women had been in the business long enough to recognize the various marks of impact. From the light dings of falling pebbles to the gashes of adventure and similar tears of a bad landing, the bright singular glow on the girl's cheek was something far more insidious, the remains of violence with malicious intent. Obviously the duo weren't idiots, so they knew better than to think for even a moment that Sam had done anything to her, but something did happen.

Someone out there had hurt the heiress, and they had been given that opportunity. Whatever had happened between the spring-autumn couple was their business, however, considering how clingy the girl had been, there had to have been a reason why she suddenly didn't want Sam's shoulder to be the one she cried on. Not to say that a couple was automatically limited to just one another in trying times, it was just out of the ordinary.

Frustration evident in his tone, Sam growled into the receiver, "Chloe, dear, are you seriously not going to let me talk to her? Need I remind you what happened the last time I trusted you with her?"

Onyx eyes downcast at the memory, Chloe knew that she had fucked up with the young woman before, so if keeping her from her bodyguard was going to help her in any way, she was prepared to bite that bullet. "You say that like you assume she wants to speak to you." Flippant, she looked down at her nails, blowing imaginary dust off the cuticle.

Half a swear, the majority of the noise out his mouth was a groan.

Lines smoothed out and everything in presentable order, the former mercenary had had enough of their juvenile exchange. Grumbling under her breath about them both being idiots, she would have cracked their heads together if that had been possible. "Enough, stop stalling Chloe. Just put the bastard out of his misery already." Seriously, she was getting sick of the squabbling. Even if it was Drake.

"..." From Nadine's prospective, this was yet another instance of her stubbornly refusing to make nice with the other kids. Sure, Chloe had it in her to play the role of the responsible adult when the situation called for it, and in her own way that was precisely what she was doing now.

Exasperation causing the mercenary to throw her hands up in the air in surrender, Nadine filled in the blanks for Sam, however it was only because the friendlier of the two wasn't willing to budge. "The girl's just finishing up in the shower."

"Shower?" Sounding rather astounded by the miracle of modern technology, Sam had known that Dells was leaving a trail like some toxic creature from the black lagoon, but he didn't think... Mind running away with him for just a moment, there was a very different Sam noise.

It wasn't quite the same as the call for sisterhood or whatever, but Chloe was disappointed in her partner for just serving the girl up like that. "Traitor."

Traitor? Taking that as little more than the natural evolution of her partner's laugh, Nadine completely ignored the accompanying glare, steamrolling ahead as planned. "Actually, your timing works out for once. You can bring the girl something clean to wear. If she wants to talk to you, you can do it on the way."

"The way to where?" Sam was no stranger to the spectacle that came with the weekends surrounding his niece's birthday, however that didn't mean he had a crystal ball to know where that celebration was going to take them.

Muted as she lapsed into a dangerously pensive silence, when Chloe realized that her game was getting her nowhere fast, she left it up to her better half to chime in. On that count, Nadine did not disappoint. "We're going to the beach. Cassie and a few of her mates are going snorkeling later this afternoon, but she wants to spend some time with us miserable sods before bailing to hang out with the cool kids."

Offended by the absurd idea that he wasn't one of the cool kids, Sam was wounded to hear that his niece could find anyone cooler than him. Cooler than her dad, sure, but never him. "What are you talking about? I'm the one that set the standard for cool."

Humble. "Hate to break it to you," utterly cut to pieces, it was so obvious in her tone that Nadine meant it that he could cry, "but you're too old be considered cool anymore."

"By the standards of an eleven year-old, maybe." Lumped into the same camp as Sam on this one, Chloe said that as much for his sake as for her own. Not about to leave sleeping dogs lie, the woman perked up considerably when she caught the water turning off in the next room. "Seems to me we might still have a market in the teen crowd, isn't that right Sam?"

"I don't..."

Trilling out the instant that the bathroom door swung open, the wise and marvelous Chloe changed her aim to a target that she could actually see. As it seemed inevitable at this point that they would come back around to each other one way or another, the locksmith figured that the least she could do was try to lighten the mood. "Hello there, girlie. Have a nice one?"

While there might not have been enough hot water left over to steam up the bathroom mirror, the heiress had a rather contented look on her face as she stumbled her way into the main room. Grin almost dopey and doe-like eyes relaxed, it seemed that she had a _very_ nice shower indeed.

"Uhhh..."

A highly unpolished response from one that should have been dripping in class, Nadine recognized the signs just as well as Chloe had. Like her partner, the ex-mercenary had ignored the out-of-place bang; it had only been the one, and the girl was notoriously accident prone, so it was probably just her dropping the conditioner. Or not. "Eww."

Glossing over Nadine's reaction, Chloe could work with this. Evil grin stretching to maniacal proportions, the group photographer zipped over to the young woman's side, raking her fingers through the wet ends of her hair. "Let me? We should have time to sort you out before we head out..."

Weary of what Chloe was plotting this time, the remaining zen drained from the heiress to be replaced with misgiving to spare, "Head out where?"

Nadine wasn't entirely sure what her partner was up to either, however she didn't like it. Regardless of who the girl was related to, she was barely a notch above deer caught in the headlights. Going up to Daniella as well, the former mercenary put one hand on her shoulder and ushered her along to get comfortable on the bed. "The beach. Drake should be bringing your swim suit now."

"Yeah," scratching his jaw as if he were avoiding speaking to the heiress, the man had been waiting for some punchline from Frazer, but nothing came, "maybe one of you wanna just come get her stuff? God-forbid I screw up and bring the wrong thing."

Equally as awkward when Chloe brought her right next to the phone gleaming mischievously on the nightstand, Dells crossed her arm over her own torso as if she were attempting to remove herself from the situation. "You won't." Mouth dry, that sounded too close to a vote of confidence. "I mean, there's a difference in fabric, and the sides are sheer. If you get confused, just send a pic-"

"Just remember to keep it clean you two." Reminding them that anything he sent would be on her phone, the blush on the young woman's face was more than enough.

"Got it." The last thing he ever expected to be hunting for, there was the sound of the drawer scraping open against the middle shelf, followed by rummaging. Sam adjusted his cellular device to get a better grip on what was what inside the rented space, his fingers moving deftly through a sea of pastel lace, catching more than once in a tangle of unnecessary straps that were purely cosmetic in nature.

"Don't forget cover." Nadine might not have needed to remind him, but she erred on the side of caution anyways. "After everything Daniella's been through, I doubt she's going to want to be seen in a bathing suit."

Combing through the girl's hair for real while they waited, Chloe affectionately pinched the young lady's cheek, just below Jian's love tap; in everything that had happened, neither woman had realized there was more to the story than they'd been told. At least so far as Daniella could tell. "Shame. I bet our girl's a real knock-out out of her clothes."

Confidence boosted a tiny little bit, the heiress sat a little bit straighter on the edge of the bed. "I don't know about that... You could probably rock a burlap sack, and Miss Ross has that kind of understated beauty. I..."

About to say something disparaging to knock herself back down a peg, Chloe tugged on the faux blonde strings she'd been braiding. "Oi, I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you."

Winching, the heiress pouted to the more sensible of the pair, "You gonna stop her?"

"Nope." Cheery, it was Chloe herself that answered; Nadine had suddenly gotten rather busy hunting through her brown bag of supplies for sunscreen and everything else they might need for a full day in the sun. "Nadders knows better than to get in my way once I put my mind to something. Sam knows better too, isn't that right sweetheart?"

 _Sweetheart_. Bubbling up like bile in the pit of her stomach, Daniella was briefly reminded of a time back at the safe house, when she had thought that there might have been a little something going on between the thief and the pickpocket. She knew deep down that it was just a joke, but she didn't much like it.

"Oops," raising her arms to gander at all the new scratches that she had gathered that morning, Dells kicked her heel into the foot of the bed, "my foot slipped. At least I didn't lose my towel."

Dutifully going about his latest task, as he half-listened to what was going on on their end, the historian pulled out a stringy piece that had been shoved all the way to the back of the drawer. Shaking it out, he recognized the crochet block that the young woman had picked up for their stay on the island. Dells hadn't worn it just yet, although she had been quite convincing about having something appropriate to wear - who knew the occasion would actually arise?

"What about a towel?" Placing the... was it a one piece or a bikini? There were dangley bits just below the water cups, confusing if it was actually attached to the bottom or just tied that way for purchase. Whichever the case was, Sam put the bathing suit on top of the dresser.

Closing the top drawer with a notable meeting of metal-on-wood, he moved his search down a level to the middle drawer, where the young woman had kept an assortment of sweaters and other covers. Ever since she'd come back from her first visit with the Orange tiger, Daniella had sworn by anything that would hide the brunt of her injuries. Fair enough, she might have just favored any type of coverage she could get before this whole ordeal, there was no way of knowing.

"It almost came clean off." Chloe embellished the event just a tad, just to get under everyone's skin.

"You'll both want to bring one." Nadine cleared her throat a little too loudly to drown out what the other woman was selling, attempting to cover a mishap that in truth wasn't nearly as bad as it must have sounded.

Beet red an anemic blush compared to how pink her cheeks were flushing, Dells looked like she would give just about anything to evaporate into the floorboards. Funnily enough, that was not the last time she would want to die in that room, but that was another story.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

So I kinda sorta married myself to this idea I have for the next chapter, which actually fucks with the flow of the story. Not too badly I hope - I mean, there are odd little blips here and there already - but this one matters for two reasons. One, its the seventy-fifth chapter, and as I've never reached that high before, it's rather special to me. I want to deliver something that's... I dunno, more? Bigger? Special? I just want to deliver. The rub is actually reason two: there was an established flow, where the crew should obviously be hitting up the beach. I have a whole exoskeleton written and everything! But, that has the potential to go over two chapters (as to that, I won't know for sure until I flesh it out), so that would push back my "special". I know I'm totally overthinking this and should probably just write the story normal so that there's not some weird kink in the timeline, but this is a big deal for me. I know that it's probably not all that big to whomever is taking the time to read this story this far (if indeed anyone is), but...

*sigh*

I'm legitimately torn here, between the integrity of my story and... Wow, before I can even finish that train of thought, it hits me what matters more. I'm adult enough to put the immaturity of having a notable milestone coincide with a pervy giggle behind me. I take my writing seriously. So even if this goes unread, thank you for hearing me out! This gave me the opportunity to grow. To stand for what matters to me. Dumb as that might sound.

Cheers!


	75. A Mother's Word Is Worse Than A Rumor

**\- Chapter Sixty-Nine -**

 **A Mother's Word Is Worse Than A Rumor**

"Can you?"

Not vapor just yet, the most that could be said for that cluster fuck of a phone call was that the messy braid on the side of the young woman's head was rather stylish. Tugging nervously at the end, the heiress slowly opened the door that she had closed between them.

Arms crossed and long legs an inadvertent tripping hazard, the thief hadn't given an explicit answer one way or another. He was just waiting there. For the life of him, Sam couldn't puzzle out which was the bigger mystery: why he was still humoring this, or better yet, why the hell was he even listening to Nadine's suggestion in the first place?

Having bailed out for "coffee" while the other one was in the shower, it was pretty much just the girl in the room, alone with her regrets. No doubt using the mass produced partition to slip into the bathing suit he'd brought over, Daniella had been the one that listened to Nadine, technically. He was just the idiot that had gone along with it.

On some level, the woman wasn't wrong that they could use the practice at being in public together if things were going to stay this awkward. It was just... Strange for him to have to stay and play this whole thing out. Normally when things went sideways (or traditionally before they ever could), Sam had the option to just cut and run, but... Dells was a special circumstance.

Door swinging open faster in horror films, the sliver of her that appeared behind the crack was as fine as his remaining patience. Breathing barely under control as she attempted to don the mask of a sane person, the heiress let out a soft noise that was caught between a ragged sigh and a muffled gulp. One arm across her collar bone to keep her top up, her gray-blue eyes darted down the length of the corridor and yet never once seemed to land on him.

Satisfied with what she did or didn't see, from how he looked at it, the young woman clearly would have rathered that they could keep speaking through the divide. Sam supposed that that made some small sense, all things considered. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that she was...

 _Thoroughly disgusted_!

Dealing with one emotion at a time could be a shitty enough experience, and the heiress had gone through so many already with what felt like zero breathing room. From strolling through the rain-soaked after hours to abusing the courtesy of her gracious hostesses, there had been a vast array of feelings that she would never forget in a million years.

Floating through serenity, sharing a genuine belly laugh with another playful sprite, living the peace of just existing in this world, questioning the cosmic wonder of it all. There had been so much good, it was only karma that there be bad to balance the scales. Terrified that the monsters had come back, resolved to climb out of that hole, collected enough to hear out a reasonable proposition, and then back to horrified once more, everything had culminated in that awful moment. Following the tale to end all tales, everything shifted when she thought...

"I can't do it alone." Hearing the words that were coming out of her own mouth, the young woman demurely presented her back to the man, holding up her hair so he had a clear view.

Reminded of an old song that the girl was probably too young to have heard of, his eyes scanned the vulnerable arch of her spine, fingers counting the steps it would take to get from one shoulder blade to the other. Shivering ever so slightly when one hand briefly alighted to steady his canvas, the girl's shudder practically filled the empty air. No doubt she was wishing that it was one of the two women that were helping with the zig-zagging strings at the back of her neck instead.

Grabbing the swimsuit because she thought it was cute, Dells had no way of knowing that it would end up like this. That as opposed to being mortified by everything that transpired prior to the delivery of her bathing suit, she would still be stuck in the past. Dwelling less on the fact that she had violated guest right and more on the fact that she was spitting in the face of her father.

Above all, the thing she was spiraling in was a pit of self-disgust, because even now she wanted what she shouldn't. Realizing that theft was just another type of lust, the only way to keep herself from stealing what she desired most in the world was to avoid it entirely. Or at least as much as humanly possible.

Shying away from Sam when all she wanted was to lean against him once more, the heiress gave her gratitude to the door. "Thank you."

Heart freezing mid-beat inside her chest, Sam gave her shoulder a gentlemanly pat that just as easily could have been seen as platonic or even professional. Finished tying off the necessary bells and whistles, his warm touch had lingered, thumb hovering just above the surface. Remembering the comforting circles and all those hours he'd held her when she thought that her mother had died, Dells almost caved in, turned around and looked him in the eye. But he broke first, moving away to the wider room, to anything that wasn't her.

It was official: being human sucked.

 **[Come, Escape To The Beach With Me, If You Would]**

Private in the sense that they had it all to themselves, one of the few good things that came out of yesterday's ugly storm was that more than ninety percent of the population were repairing the damage. The Drake's had some clean up to do as well, but they'd gotten lucky; not only was the damage minimal, their good friend Cutter had agreed to return back to the house. Well, not until he tracked down Ali, but he wasn't all that worried about his eldest son.

Joseph on the other hand... there was a reason that he had asked Mary-Elizabeth to keep a close watch on their boy. Which she was presently doing from the comfort of a checkered beach towel and a portable lawn chair, aided by a pair of over-sized wicker baskets stacked with lunch and bottles of at least four different sunblocks. Shades reflecting the light back where it came from, as she reached into the cooler for anything that wasn't an ice cube, mama bear studied the sea.

True blue, aquamarine, ultraviolet dimmed down to a purple that was nigh dusky, there was only the swirling tide, an inflatable beach ball getting bounced over the moody waves, and laughter. Most of all, there was laughter. Joey was alright, splashing around in the ocean with Cassie and one of the other families that had shown up.

"Be careful out there!" It was a warning to the other children as much as it was to her own son.

Elsewhere on the sandy strip, a good girl and her master's mate were running up and down the ever-changing landscape, tirelessly chasing one another. The master was at the shaded bar with his close pack mate, the old man that the people called Sully. Both were reminiscing on old times, talking about everything they had accomplished, everything that her girl would go on to do. Relaxed enough to just enjoy the day for what it was, the master's gaze kept tracking back to his mate, the wide smile on his face getting wider every time she grinned over at him. As for Vicky's namesake, Sully was keeping a weary eye out for anything of interest.

Arrival fashionably late as usual, Chloe was flanked on either side by a dour frown, but she wasn't about to let that get her down. Hitting the sandbox, the woman had been making big plans about a new sand sculpture that she wanted to give a whack, and she'd expected her partner would join her sooner or later. Until that time, Nadine had gone off in search of starfish and seashells. Leading up the rear, Sam had splintered off from the trio-and-a-half to speak with someone he recognized in the parking lot. Someone he had owed.

Stung by the jade jelly without ever stepping foot into the water, the heiress had spent the rest of her time pouting into her drink. Sipping on an undoctored water with lemon at the other end of the L-shaped bar, the young woman was so frazzled by the actions of somebody she was actively trying to ignore that she hadn't realized that she was being watched. Nursing her juice box in the drunk island sun, Dells was barely listening to Mr. Drake and Mr. Sullivan, let alone paying attention to the ebony minx that had been eyeing her with a serious thirst.

Thunder crackling over some far-off mountain to announce that the wicked witch had arrived, things were about to get a lot worse for everybody. Well, technically 'worse' was subjective, but there was definitely going to be friction and discord sown. Just like a real servant of Satan might want.

"Gentlemen." Voice a purr as she slid between the counter and the bar stool, the bespectacled businesswoman beamed at the pilot and the happily married father of one. Bangs swept to the side for the occasion, the woman looked like she had just stepped off the runway, legs covered in a sheer sarong and a little something in red. "Fancy meeting you here."

"What do you want, Bai?" Sully was less than thrilled to see her again after so soon, but that came from being stuck with anyone in a tin can for days at a time. To that end, working with her had been far from what he would consider a pleasant experience. Although, from the way Nate made it sound, Sam at least had found better luck with the daughter.

Order coming almost at the snap of her polished talons, the woman in red stared pointedly down the counter. "Other than this delectable strawberry wine cooler you mean? A lot, Sullivan, I want a lot. I want to mend the relationship I had with my precious baby. I want to have never made that damned deal in the first place."

"Aww, you do care!" Tone completely flat for him, neither Nathan nor Elena were convinced for a red-hot minute that the woman cared about her little girl. In fact, just last night the reporter had privately questioned if Bai would have bothered with Daniella this long if she hadn't been Rafe's daughter.

Leering across the old man, Bai aimed the fullest extent of her glacial fury at the younger brother. "More than you realize. Or maybe you do understand, as a parent yourself." Raising her bottle out to the tide, the businesswoman cocked her head at the girl at play, a vulture in human guise. "You want to give them the world, if you could. You want to protect them, knowing that you can't." Awash in sudden melancholy, the woman gazed away from Cassie, stolen sapphire rain coming back to rest upon her own child, to her own ghosts. "This is a risky game we're playing here, whether you realize it or not."

Nathan naturally took her words and actions as a threat against his own daughter, and he wasn't about to have it. Rising from the bar stool in anger, everything happened so quickly that no one took much notice to the outburst, not even Elena. "Let's get one thing straight: you do not EVER threaten my daughter-"

"That's not what she's saying, kid." Thankfully for him, Sully was there to prevent a scene; catching the younger man's arm before anyone else was any wiser, the charming art dealer knew better. "Right?" Matching the glares going around with an ounce more practice at faking decorum, Victor gestured over to her own offspring not five feet away.

"Smart man." Cherry lips curling into a sneer, the woman tossed her hair over her shoulder in a haughty fashion. "I have no interest in bringing either of them into this. Bad enough Daniella's as involved as she is."

Tolerating the businesswoman less and less, Nathan was in no rush to expose Cassie to this part of his life, however he wasn't sitting down just yet either. "Then what are you playing at here?"

Bai merely shrugged. "Nothing, today. Seeing as Sullivan here just had to see the birthday girl, and Daniella is at that age where it's so appealing to brush off those with your best interests at heart, I was only going to make the most of this time. I can't help it if you lot just happened to show up ahead of me. At this public beach."

"You do realize that there are other beaches, right?" Nathan would rather his family didn't have to endure the black spot in the sun.

Uninterested in hearing a tourism pitch of everything this little speck of land could purport to offer, the woman shrugged. "I should hope so, for the sake of the local economy. Frankly, I could care less about those places right now - this one has something they don't." Gleaming only a shade or two lighter than the salty sky, her eyes made it clear what that thing was. "Happy a coincidence as this was, now that we're all here, this gives me the chance to make sure that I'm getting my money's worth."

Following the woman's intense, shark-like gaze to the heiress, Nathan noticed for the first time that Sam wasn't hovering nearby. In fact, he couldn't see his big brother anywhere. Where was Sam? Slightly more concerting was that the young woman wasn't alone; a local girl that worked at the convenience store in town, Nate recognized the second female at the bar, but for the life of him couldn't conjure up a name.

A good, loyal brother through and through, Nate stoutly defended his absent sibling. "Sam's taking good care of her. We all are."

Charmed to hear as much, Bai laughed over the open neck of her strawberry beverage, "Oh, that's such a relief! But which girl are you all protecting? Ella? What's that idiotic thing your brother calls her? Dills? No... Della? Dells! That's what it was!" Never going to be a fan of that nickname for as long as she lived, the woman struggled to remember precisely what it was she so despised.

Sully had no idea that Sam christened the girl anything, but somehow he wasn't all that surprised. And just like he knew his surrogate son, the pilot with the best goddamn mustache in the biz also knew that the woman disliked more than the friendly exchange. "I've heard worse nicknames." Hell, he'd _given_ worse.

"Then you know that's how it starts." Bothered that her pretty little lamb had taken to something so basic, what irked her maternal side more was that she had embraced the likes of Sam Drake so quickly. The man was a monster, a disease. "I wasn't there for him like I should have been, but I will be damned if I lose her too."

Nathan had some clue as to the kind of things his older brother got to, some of the people, but it was never something he had really put all that much into. Somehow, something about the way that the businesswoman spoke reminded him that once upon a time, Rafe had been one of those people. _And so was the heiress_.

Going back a couple of nights ago to when Elena had driven them back to the hotel, he'd seen them on the way out the door. It had been more than just a kiss, more than just a tease...

 _Goddammit, Sam_.

 **[Evil Unfurls It's Wings]**

Migrated away from the bar with yet another alcoholic beverage sloshing in hand, Bai had wandered off to catch a few rays before the sun was swallowed completely by the clouds. Leaving her fellow conversation companions in a sorrier stat than which she had found them in, the woman had walked away with a self-satisfied smirk. It was a small victory to be sure, but an overdue one.

"Do you mind?" Inquiring if she could lay out her spotted towel on the sand, Bai set her sight on Mary-Elizabeth next. "This is the best place to keep an eye on my little girl."

Peeking up from the waves long enough to get a good look at the woman, Mary-Elizabeth blinked behind her shades, almost confused that someone so glamorous was speaking to someone as plain as a housewife. Even their bathing suits were leagues apart, the other's trendy, sheer, and the color of sin whereas hers was basic in splayed daisies. Sure, the woman had a high opinion of herself, but this model with her berry lips and windswept coif was the kind of person that belonged on film.

Maybe she had already seen her on film, as something about the refined beauty seemed almost familiar. Was it from the television? Charlie and Joseph both were always giving it to her for all the reality TV and gossip rags she devoted her free time to (Ali at least kept out of those family conversations). Might have been somewhere on the internet too.

Nodding slowly as she recovered from the shock, Mary-Elizabeth gestured to the open landscape, welcoming the stranger to claim any part of it.

Absolutely stunning, the manners of the woman were polished to a level that would flabbergast her boys. "Much obliged, thank you." Hair moving in the breeze, her sarong twirled around her ankles, giving off the impression that the wind itself was at her beck and call. That was crazy of course, but it certainly seemed to be the case.

Something about this woman was ringing a bell, but had it been from something recent? It was simply going to annoy her all day.

Drink noted, as well as the fact that this other woman was flat on her stomach facing the open bar, Mary-Elizabeth remembered that she had said something about being a parent as well? "So, which one is yours?"

Bai pointed directly at the blonde girl at the end of the counter, the same exact one that had arrived with Chloe and Nadine. They had yet to be formally introduced, but given who her entourage was, there was little doubt who that was - it was that Ella girl that was staying with Sam. Honestly that screamed trouble to Mary-Elizabeth, but seeing as she had fallen in love with a scoundrel or two in her day, there really was no room for her to judge.

"Ella, right? I haven't had the pleasure of meeting her yet, but Elena has nothing but good things to say. Seems like you cracked the secret and raised a good one." Chuckling good-naturedly, her eyes were never far from her boy. She supposed that it was inevitable that she would give birth to a handful.

"If only that were true." Sounding more bitter than she had intended to, Bai watched as a foreign young woman approached her daughter, poised to make a kill. "Forgive me, I'm just finding it difficult to swallow."

Curiosity getting the better of her, Mary-Elizabeth perked up at the prospect of some juicy gossip. "Swallow what?" Glancing over at the pair of girls, it seemed like that Ella was making a new friend - a really good new friend...? It was not exactly difficult to picture what that conversation was going like when the second girl's hand had reached out for the small of the first's back. "Oh!"

"Actually," Bai was just as interested in who this second individual was as Mary-Elizabeth, "I have no idea who that is. I was referring to her new boyfriend. Not his biggest fan in the world, but can you blame me? They only just started going out, and already he's warping her into some kind of deviant! It was bad enough just thinking that she was going out with a man old enough to be her father."

Bait snapped up hook, line, and sinker, Mary-Elizabeth's inner snoop emerged faster than it took a supped-up Lambo to hit a hundred on the track. "Old enough to be her father, huh? That's pretty... Something. But are you sure this is him? Maybe that girl is just..." Trailing off as she tried to think what else it could possibly be, the stay-at-home mother frowned, thinking of Cassie. That girl was a good as a daughter to her, and if this older man was going after a young blonde thing like this Ella girl...

"Speak of the devil." Pointing out a certain expert in the subject matter of old pirates and Henry Avery in particular, Bai fingered the man helping the barkeep by lugging a box of fresh supplies up from the parking lot.

"That's him?" Mary-Elizabeth couldn't believe it.

Oh, she could easily buy Sam Drake attempting to pick up on some unsuspecting kid just getting out into the world, that was just the kind of guy she saw him to be. No, the part that caught her so off-guard was how certain the girl's mother was in identifying the relationship. 'Boyfriend' was the exact word she had used, and if there was ever a reliable source of outside information, surely it was a mother.

Confirmation the killing blow, the woman gave a final vindictive look towards the bar before nodding solemnly, "I'm afraid so."

Waiting for just this sort of opportunity, Bai twisted her discovery of Sam and Daniella in a very petty way, knowing from the past that anything remotely close to a real relationship would scare him off. There was no guarantee that making it seem official would stop them from what they were doing, but if enough of his friends thought that it was a legitimate thing, maybe the thief would back off. Ideally, from that point the girl would become insecure and question what it was they were doing.

 _And she would break his heart_.

What came next, Bai couldn't have planed any better than if she truly were omnipotent. Lending genuine credence to her story, the lowly historian had chosen that exact moment - a moment he thought that no one else was paying him any mind - to look over at Dells. Maybe it was just as simple as a bodyguard doing his job and making sure that his charge wasn't in any immediate danger talking to her new friend, but Mary-Elizabeth saw the scene exactly the way that the businesswoman wanted her to.

Colored against him, the case had been made in her mind: Sam had finally found a partner.

"Excuse me, I need to... go to the bathroom." Coming out with the most abused alibi in all of human history and beyond, Mary-Elizabeth had no intention of hitting the outhouse. If anyone really knew anything about this and could shed any light on the matter, it was going to be Elena.

 **[Poison Spreads]**

Mollusks and invertebrates far more attractive than human drama, one Nadine Ross found herself drawn in by the teeth of the rare land shark. Alone and smiling a little too brightly for someone that was embroiled with the triad, Bai had all but invited the amateur zoologist to join her. It had never boded well when the woman became too smug to even try to hide it, so there was no reason this should be any different.

Grumpy as ever to have to face the ex of an ex, the former mercenary begrudged Chloe for talking her out of bringing her gun. While she may not have had the (serious) outright desire to shoot the businesswoman dead, Nadine could think of a million different ways that could change. Besides, at this point it wasn't as if she'd be orphaning the heiress. Maybe legally speaking, but it wasn't as if the law was the best friend of anyone there on that sandy strip.

"What canary did you eat?" Drake had made frequent use of idioms, so she had brushed up her game as to not be made a fool of. Not that Sam would dare dream of doing her dirty like that.

"Oh, it's you." Smirk faltering when she greeted Rafe's old fling, Bai gestured broadly over to her daughter. "What, a mother can't just be proud of her daughter for surviving a triad tail? She's come a long way... I dare say her father might even be proud of just how far she's come, wouldn't you?" Still bitter over that ancient history, the woman adjusted the top of her bathing suit, "You're the only one around here that remembers him outside of that... nasty business. Well, one of the only ones."

Sam. Scanning the busy horizon for the man, Nadine found him helping out the bartender (most likely in exchange for a favor or as means of repaying one). Glossing past the kids splashing around in the churning swell and the fleeting masterpiece that her partner was building, her hazel gaze wandered over the growing congregation of mothers that had assembled to discuss nothing that had to do with their offspring. Sullivan was deeply engrossed in conversation with the younger Drake brother, and the heiress was being picked up by some stranger with lovely ivory teeth and luscious ebony curls.

"Remind you of anyone you know?" Coy twinkle in her eyes, the bespectacled beauty took a throaty chug from her drink, "They always said that history had a way of repeating itself," uninvited, Bai caressed Nadine's cheek almost tenderly, "I just had no idea that it would happen in my lifetime. But I shouldn't be surprised, should I? Rafe always did take what was his."

And speaking of Rafe taking what was his, his little girl was taking the advances of that Islander a bit too well, especially as Sam was right there, watching her as clearly as anyone else. With nothing else to say to that, it was Bai who opened her mouth first, "That can't be good, can it? I'll admit I've never seen Drake get jealous before... You don't suppose it could lead to violence, do you? That would just be terrible."

Practically salivating at the mere thought, Bai hit something that Nadine had only entertained for a single moment (or two, thanks to Chloe). "What makes you think he should be jealous?"

"Wouldn't you be jealous of someone else putting their hands all over your girlfriend? I'd call them, uck," Bai nearly gagged at the thought, which was a real loss for the human race, "lovers, but I think we both know there's a more going on between them."

Going silent, Nadine would have attempted to dispute that there was anything deep about the relationship Drake had with Rafe's daughter, but what could she possibly say when all the signs were there? Chloe could have cooked up something on the spot, some sort of barb or joke or other inappropriate comment, and all she could think of was the fact that this was all coming from the girl's mother.

"You're taking it rather well, assuming what you're saying holds any weight at all." Middling between covering for her allies and denial, the former mercenary shook a stray curl out of her face.

"Am I? How kind of you to say so." Boredom or something similar creeping into her tone, Bai raised her bottle to the bar, "I was worried that it might be obvious I was thinking of creating a scene. But if I could fool you into believing that I wasn't plotting some way to break them up even now, I've done my job as a mother." Mother of the year, anyone there would have said. "For all anyone here knows, I could have hired that pretty little number."

Sickened that anyone could be so heartless - especially when it concerned their own child - Nadine turned around to leave the woman to her mirth. But not before calling that behavior out for what it was. "You're despicable. No wonder your own daughter hates you so much."

"For now." The businesswoman seemed truly unperturbed by the accusation, wetting her thumb to brush away some of the strawberry that had missed her lips. "Rafe always found his way back to me, even after you stole him away. There's no reason Daniella will be any different."

Glad to be rid of the woman, the ex-head of an entire private military company made a beeline straight for her favorite photographer. Orange swimsuit cut low and tailored to flatter the figure, there was no mistaking the onyx-eyed ravenette from any angle. Admittedly, it helped that she was pausing every so often to record her progress, just in case the worst should happen.

"Took you bloody long enough." Not even glancing up from the outer walls of her creation, Frazer never doubted for an instant that she would be left to finish this thing alone. "You know, a girl could get old waiting for you."

It was a good an invitation as any. "Speaking of girls, I was just speaking to Daniella's mother..." Nadine trailed off to give Chloe room to be dramatic and make her fuss, however by this stage she knew better than to leave a wide window for such, "You don't think that they're together, do you?"

Arching a perfectly sculpted brow (as if there was anything imperfect about the pickpocket), the older woman found the source of the hullabaloo, protected as usual by a familiar face. "What, you mean her and Sam?" Despite how actively she had advocated for pushing the two together, Chloe had never been fully optimistic that anything substantial would come out of it. "If they are, something tells me those two will be the last to know."

 **[Daughter, Dearest]**

Lily, the charming and bright girl you always wanted to have as your best friend (or loathed entirely as your mortal nemesis for life), was chatting up the sad little flower she found at the bar of all places. Feeling like they were getting fairly chummy in spite of the wall that the haunted heiress was erecting, the older of the two was persistent.

"You're way too cute to be so blue. What's the story, lovely?" Ready to call on her cousin for something stronger than the watered-down slush on the menu, Lily held off when the blonde glanced up from the lemon wedge after several moments. Startled to see anyone there, Lily chuckled, "You didn't hear a word I just said, did you? Alright sweetie, what's the name?"

"Name?" Immediately thinking that the stranger was asking her for her name, Daniella couldn't remember what name she was supposed to be giving people. Flashing back to giving Angel and Ashley the nickname that Sam had given her, going by Dells just made sense, but... it was the name that he had given her.

Brazen enough to touch Daniella's shoulder, Lily giggled, "The name of the one that gave you the blues."

Dells took a step back from her funk long enough to look at the stranger for the first time, drowning almost right away on the dark curls, wild eyes, secret-spilling mouth, the yellow string bikini. Whoever she was, there was no two ways about it: the girl was hot. Easily an eight on a bad day, today looked like it had been uncommonly kind. At least it had been for Lily.

Strategically placing her hand on the faux-blonde's back for anyone to see, she asks if Dells would like something a little stronger than just a water. "My cousin'll fix you up good, even if you are a couple years shy of twenty-one. It might help you tell the story." Confused, there was a blank stare on the younger's face, earning yet another laugh, "The one that messed you up. Lemme guess, it was a guy, wasn't it? Boys always have a special way of messing with us."

"Thanks, but that's a pass." Declining the drink for a whole host of reasons, the heiress shook her head. "I've made a lot of stupid decisions lately, and I really don't need to make another."

Rejected politely, Lily followed the young woman's gaze straight to the silver fox that was helping out her cousin. Motivated by the spirit of mischief and branded for life with the words 'carpe diem', Lily wasn't quite ready to throw in the towel just yet. "Wrong. I think another mistake is exactly what you need right now."


End file.
